Bridges and Crossroads
by Rose Eclipse
Summary: Post "Rebels" finale. Jedi apprentice Ezra Bridger takes the next step forward on his journey into the world of the Chiss.
1. Chapter 1

"Sapphire comes from the Greek _sappheiros_ meaning ' _blue color'._ Sapphire has the deepest blue of all mineral kingdom; it is also the strongest of all blue stones. Sapphire is one of the four precious gemstones, the other three being the diamond, the ruby, and the emerald. Sapphire is second only to the diamond in its strength. It rates 9 on the Mohs scale of hardness." -The Spruce website

"Royalty often wore sapphires for dual purposes. Not only did the stone reputedly attract wealth, it also purportedly protected the wearer from envy and infidelity." –Gem Society Website

"And they saw the God of Israel: and there was under His feet as it were a paved work of a sapphire stone, and as it were the body of heaven in His clearness." –Exodus 24:10

"A great sapphire it was whose light and cradle

Held all things; there were the delights of skies, though

Its cloudless blue was different; of sea and meadow,

But their shapes not seen, The stone unheld was mine."

-W.S. Merwin

A-A-A

PROLOGUE

 _The throne room was the same as Thrawn had remembered it from the first time he had been brought before Emperor Palpatine. The simple décor stood in contrast to the intimidating size of the room; the red-robed guards flanking the Emperor's demure throne. There was no need to boast of his power with grand statues or elaborate tapestries. The leader of the galaxy ruled by his will alone._

 _The Emperor listened in silence for several minutes while Thrawn commented on the logic and benefits of continued funding for his exclusive TIE defender program. Such a magnificent high-tech weapon would shift the tide of this terrible war, ending the conflict and bringing only victory for His Majesty._

" _I am aware of your project's rivalry against 'Stardust'," the Emperor said at last. He leaned back in his throne, shadows descending over his wrinkled face. "Tarkin believes that Director Krennic has been using 'Stardust' to override all standard protocol and advance his own career."_

" _Then the project is in danger?" Thrawn murmured quietly._

" _It is not." There was a note of confirmation in the Emperor's voice that Thrawn dared not oppose._

" _As for your TIE defender factory…"_

 _The Chiss remained passive, refusing to reveal the slightest gesture of weakness. He watched the Emperor wave a hand regally through the air._

" _I will see to it that you are provided with generous funding," the Emperor announced. "In return, all I ask is that you complete a single task for me."_

" _Of course, your majesty."_

 _The Emperor's lips parted, revealing a glimmer of his teeth. "Bring me Ezra Bridger," he commanded._

 _The Chiss' eyes widened slightly but Thrawn kept his lips sealed. What could the Emperor want with the boy? He was a bumbling reckless youth who constantly stood on the brink of danger, a liability to the Rebel Alliance and those around him._

 _As if reading his thoughts, the Emperor explained to him._

 _"I have felt the disturbance in the Force when Kanan Jarrus sacrificed himself for his crew. A noble act, worthy of a Jedi. Now his death has created shockwaves in the galaxy that can change the future of the Force. With his presence absent in this world, the opportunity to make those changes must fall to another._

 _"Without his master, the Jedi apprentice is weak and lost. This is a chance to regain what was lost to the Sith centuries ago. The boy can yet open the portal that I require."_

 _The Emperor placed his palms upon the throne and rose from his seat. "Complete this mission for me and I will deny you nothing, Mith'raw'nuorodo."_

 _Thrawn crossed a fist over his chest and bowed to him._

" _As you wish, your majesty."_

 _End of prologue_

A-A-A

 _Present_

Insects shrilled in the trees sending vibrations of pain into Ezra's ears. He let out a weary sigh, squinting against the blinding heat of a sun that pierced through the tree. He rose slowly to his feet, brain and limbs fatigued from yet another sleepless night.

He remembered the fight over Lothal. The pergil had been summoned and seized control of the star destroyers, crashing into the Empire's mightiest ships and smashing them apart into metallic splinters. Ezra had poured every drop of energy that the Force allowed him into his body, willing the creatures to do what must be done.

Never mind the tempting offer of the Emperor. Never mind the red guards who nearly electrocuted him with their instruments. Never mind the lash of heat when Thrawn had fired his blaster into Ezra's shoulder.

No, what mattered was the message of the Force that took hold of Ezra as he and the pergil had mastered the Chiamera and driven into the depths of space.

" _Keep Lothal safe. Run. Get away. You will return home."_

He had been composed the entire time, his soul's essence merging with the will of the Force guiding Ezra on a wave of courage. But after the ship had crashed into this thick jungle world and left Ezra alone in waking conscious, fear and doubt tormented him every day. He had walked miles back and forth in confusion, looking for any troopers or officers that might have survived. But no one answered his calls, even when he yelled until his voice grew hoarse.

He staggered in a circle and instantly winced at the deepening growl in his stomach. He had scavenged the bits of the Chiamera that had fallen out of the sky and found small containers of Imperial rations but these meager bits soon ran out. Anything else came from whatever vegetation he could find, chew, and swallow.

Ezra ran a hand through his matted hair. No matter how many times he had rinsed it in a nearby pond, it felt greasy and matted by the next day. His left shoulder blade was also doing poorly. Ever since the attack his wound refused to heal properly. Ezra tried to wash his shoulder to keep it clean but it made little difference without bacta patches or sanitizers. Every few days the wound would rupture again, stinging him with fresh pain and oozing with sticky yellow pus.

No weapons. No medical supplies. No escape.

Ezra took a sharp stone and slashed another notch into a stick. He counted off how many days he had been alone and shuddered: nearly two months. He sighed again and looked around him. This was nothing like his younger days on Lothal when he could slip into town and steal some credits or his next meal. If he could just find someone, _something_ , a form of life besides the creatures and vegetation around him or a scrap of technology to help Ezra, he would embrace it eagerly.

One hot hour turned into two hotter hours and then three humid ones as Ezra continued to hike onwards. The sound of tree leaves rustling together caused his sense to prickle up. Footsteps? He strained his ears as he stood still. Yes, he could hear the sound of people moving and talking! A thrill of joy ran through Ezra.

" _They could be stormtroopers_ ," he warned himself. But that thought mattered little right now. He'd willingly surrender if it meant a clean cell after living on this hellish place. He resisted the urge to charge towards the voice and perhaps more out of fear than reason, Ezra thrust himself downwards beneath the rubbery leaves of a wide bush.

Someone stepped through the clearing. Ezra braced himself for the gleaming white Imperial trooper but his anticipation turned into shock. His mouth fell open as he gaped at the stranger creature that had come through instead.

It, _he_ , was humanoid in shape and form: tall, lithe, muscular arms and strong legs carrying itself forward with confidence. But all of his skin, from the crown of his head down to his fingertips, was a remarkable shade of blue; flawlessly identical to the supernatural tint of Thrawn's skin. His eyes were the same glowing red of the grand admiral.

Ezra shuddered. This couldn't be a coincidence. He squinted hard to get a better look. The alien's cheekbones weren't as defined as Thrawn's and his other facial features suggested he was younger than the grand admiral. The stranger's hair was jet-black and formed tightly-cropped curls around his scalp. He bent down to examine a plant, extracted some stalks with gloves hands, and placed them into a pouch slung around his waist.

Creeping forward on arms and legs, Ezra slowly followed the alien. Soon the stranger stepped out into a clearing. Ezra glanced up to see a ship on the ground. Though the style was similar to Correlian transports, the overall design was unfamiliar with elongated wings painted yellow and twin vision bubbles on the top for two gunners.

Black and gray spots started to dart before Ezra's vision. He blinked them away, squinting to gain focus.

More aliens approached from the trees. Three…four…five…Ezra counted two men and three females, all blue-skinned and red-eyed. They were busy preparing their encampment. Some of them where moving boxes, other studying the plants and wildlife around them and making notes with their computer equipment. One was cooking something over a portable heater and the scent was so good that it made Ezra's head reel with hunger.

He tried to crawl backwards back into the thicket but his torn boot snagged on a branch. Attempting to shake off, the relentless branch only released itself with a crisp sound of breaking in two.

 _Snap!_

Five pairs of glowing eyes turned towards him.

He scrambled backwards, trying to get himself onto his feet. Trying to get away. He heard more branches breaking, voices speaking in a guttural language he didn't know. Hands grabbed him under the arms and hoisted him upwards.

He was dragged back into the encampment and deposited at someone's feet. The young Jedi's eyes made contact with a pair of boots and then made their way up to the person. A shiver of horror ran through Ezra.

Thrawn.

His own appearance had altered as much as Ezra's, informing the young Jedi that his enemy had survived the crash and spent all his time on this jungle planet. The Imperial jacket of a grand admiral was missing; Thrawn wore a sleeveless shirt matted with dust. His pants were stained to dingy gray. His hair fell in black twisted ropes around his ears and scratches marked his skin.

And yet he showed no signs of lethargy or illness like Ezra. If anything, Thrawn appeared confident as ever. His ragged appearance was that of a feral animal more than a sophisticated Imperial officer—and no less dangerous.

He said nothing but peered down at the Jedi as though he was some fascinating discovery. Then his lips parted and he spoke in the same eerie voice Ezra had heard so many times before.

"Ezra Bridger. We meet again."

Ezra heard the sound of a blaster being cocked behind him. He reached out with a hand to summon the Force, to push Thrawn and his companions away from himself. But then another pulse of heat burst from his wounded shoulder, draining away the last drops of energy from his body. He fell on his face before the alien and felt the sweet soft grass pressing into his skin.

The Force…it was always there. Yet it had shifted itself within and around Ezra. His spirit reached out to it, trying to call upon the all-powerful strength and mystery to protect himself. But the Force remained silent. It would not embody him with the energy to rise against his enemies.

Dread flooded Ezra's veins.

" _This isn't happen. It's just a nightmare,"_ he tried to reassure himself. " _I'm going to wake up back on the Ghost and Hera will assure me that everything's fine."_

One of the aliens was speaking behind Ezra. Thrawn uttered something back in the same peculiar language. He gestured to the strange ship behind him and then pointed down to Ezra. The young Jedi saw the alien give him a final glance and then turning around, Thrawn walked towards the shuttle.

Again, hands swarmed over him. Again, he was being moved and pushed against his will. Ezra saw the shuttle coming closer into view—no, they were _moving_ towards it! They were going to put Ezra on the same ship that Thrawn had just entered.

He was going to be tortured to death by these monsters and there was nothing he could do to resist it.

"No, no," he groaned aloud, shaking his head in protest.

Four hands pressed against his spine, forcing Ezra into an upright position. Red eyes slid back into focus and he saw the alien with the dark curls standing before him. The man took hold of Ezra's chin and calmly pressed a breathing apparatus over the lower half of his face. A frantic gasp caused his lungs to instinctively expand. Against his will, Ezra breathed in a surge of sugary-sweet gas that slithered up into his nose and mouth.

Ezra's mind instantly clouded over, limbs growing slack and heavy from the gas. An obscure part of his mind welcomed the sweet taste and urged his body to breathe it in even deeper like a deliciously addictive spice. His eyelids were closing; he couldn't fight off the thick blanket of sleep that was wrapping itself around him in a secure embrace.

He blinked drowsily at the eyes glowing back at him. A single thought drifted through his conscience before he was pulled into oblivion.

" _I promised I'd return home."_

Ezra fell helplessly forward and landed into a pair of outstretched arms.

A-A-A

Cool. Calm. Quiet.

One by one, the sensations stirred through Ezra's mind and reassured him that his body was no longer in peril. He blinked his eyes to clear the sleep from his mind. Slowly, his body took in sense of sight, smell, and sound. He was lying in a bed and eyes flickering around, realized he was in a small industrialized room.

His skin felt raw yet refreshed, as though it had been scrubbed and scored with ten brushes. He shifted around in the bed he was lying on and oh, how good it felt to be between clean sheets! Ezra groaned in relief and turned over on his stomach, slipping his arms beneath the pillow that had been supporting his head.

All around him, the only sound was a faint humming sensation like that of an engine circulating air or a space freighter cutting through the galaxy. It was a reassuring noise that nearly lulled Ezra back to sleep until his stomach growled loudly. Hunger was a harsh motivator and it urged him to propel himself upright in bed.

The shredded remains of his uniform had been removed and he was wearing a spotless white tunic in its place. But if Thrawn and those creatures had taken him prisoner then why bother to wash him up and tuck him into bed? Did they want to make certain the Jedi would be clean and presentable when handed back over to the Empire?

Another stomach pain jabbed into Ezra's thoughts. He smelled food and noticed a wooden tray had been strategically placed on a small nightstand within his reach. Logically, it would be unwise to eat until he was certain nothing was poisoned or drugged. But he was too ravenous to comprehend anything else other than picking up a flat brown cake and biting into it.

The crisp warm bread flecked with seeds was the most delicious thing Ezra had ever eaten in his life. He wolfed down two mouthfuls of bread and nearly chocked on the third. After overcoming a fit of coughs, he tried the bowl that had strips of what looked like vegetables or green noodles floating in a bright orange broth. There was no spoon in sight so he brought the bowl to his lips and slurped down the savory liquid. The soup was even better than the bread and it slid smoothly down his throat and swirled soothingly into his stomach. He emptied the bowl halfway and then dipped bits of bread into the broth to soften it before chewing again.

Ezra hadn't been enjoying his meal more than fifteen minutes when the door to his cabin opened with a _swish_. The alien with the curly hair stepped into his room. He wore a floor-length white lab coat over a black uniform.

The young Jedi nearly dropped the bowl, aware that soup was dripping down his chin.

"Commander Ezra Bridger," the alien announced. Ezra nervously wiped his chin with his sleeve.

"I am Doctor Mikh'al," the newcomer went on. "I have been assigned as your physician during our journey. If you are capable of standing up, our commanding officer has requested that…."

His Basic was audible but heavily-accented. " _Sy Bisti_?" Ezra thought. _"But only traders who travel near the Unknown Regions speak it."_

"Commander, can you hear me?" Mikh'al interrupted his thoughts.

"Yes," Ezra managed in a croaky voice.

"Good. You weren't responding. After your meeting, I will complete your medical treatment and include an otoscopy examination just to be sure."

Ezra scrambled to put his thoughts together. "Can I ask you a question, Doctor Mikh'al?" He tried to imitate the doctor's name by pronouncing harder on the second syllable.

The young physician blinked his red eyes. "You just did. But you may ask another."

Ezra would have laughed had the situation not been this bizarre. "Where am I? What part of the Imperial fleet hired you? And where are we _going_?" he blurted out.

"That was three questions, not one." Mikh'al walked over to the nightstand and set down his datapad.

"To answer your questions, we are currently on board the Chiss star carrier _Saffur_. I am not in service to the Galactic Empire."

"As to our destination…" His eyes glowed unnaturally bright. "Our commanding officer will tell you in person. I will take you to him now."

A tremor ran though Ezra's body. "Thrawn," he whispered softly.

But not soft enough to evade Mikh'al's attention. "Mith'raw'nurodo," he corrected Ezra.

The peculiar alien word rolled off his tongue and sent a shiver down Ezra's spine.

A-A-A

 _30 minutes later:_

Outfitted in new clean clothes and a pair of synth-cotton slippers, Ezra found himself standing in front of an office door and knocking on it.

"Enter," the voice commanded. Ezra pressed a button on the wall and the doors slid open, allowing him to walk into the office.

The interior was smaller than Thrawn's office aboard the Chiamera and better lit. There were no ornaments or art collections to be seen. The utilitarian room held two chairs, a desk, some shelves, and a large monitor data machine that took up the length of one wall.

Thrawn had been reading something off a piece of parchment but looked up when Ezra stepped inside. Like Doctor Mikh'al, Thrawn also wore an unfamiliar black uniform with a red badge on the collar. His hair had been trimmed short again and the only sign of his temporary shipwreck were a few scratches on his left cheek and chin.

The air was frigid with tension as the former Imperial and Rebel starred at each other. Then Thrawn broke through the silence.

"We meet again in what I hope are better circumstances." He tilted his chin downward. "I trust you have recovered from the Chimaera's crash."

His words caused anger to rise up in Ezra. "What am I doing here? And what do you want with me?" he demanded.

The alien gestured to a chair beside his desk. "Please, sit. We have plenty of time to converse."

"There's nothing to talk about."

"On the contrary," Thrawn murmured fluidly. "I am sure you have many questions to be answered."

He was so damn unruffled that it only made Ezra's impatience grow. _"As if I didn't just use the pergil to hijack his ship and hurl us into space."_

"Fine. How much longer am I your prisoner until you hand me over the Empire?"

Thrawn carefully folded himself up into the chair and draped one leg across another. "You are incorrect on two accounts. You are not a prisoner—for now. And I have no intention of returning you to the Empire's domain."

"Why not?"

"Because it does not suit my needs."

Ezra's eyes narrowed at his adversary. "What exactly are those needs?"

This time Thrawn's lips twisted into a faint smirk. "I will answer directly when you ask the right questions."

He watched the young Jedi's hand ball up into a fist. After a moment of pent-up wrath, Ezra willed himself to breathe out and release it. Thrawn wanted to play mind games?

Fine.

It was still in the office with only the humming sound of the engines between the two of them. Finally, after several tense moments, Ezra posed his question.

"Who are you really working for, Mithraw-nurudo?" Despite Ezra tripping over the alien's full name, he was rewarded with a cool smile from Thrawn.

He placed both palms upon the desk and rose to his feet.

"I am an officer of the Chiss Defense Fleet. And I am taking to the home of my people."

A-A-A

Ahsoka had once told him, " _Just when you think you understand the Force, you find out how little you actually know."_

She couldn't have been more right. You connect with a small animal to find yourself facing a bigger one. You open a portal to one world and step into endless stories. Reach out to connect with a single person and find yourself touching oceans of stars in an endless galaxy.

As Ezra sat in his chair and listened to the story of Mith'raw'nurodo, tactician of Csilla, his mind reeled with astonishment. Everyone in Phoenix Squadron had heard the rumors that the blue-skinned Chiss had been found by the Empire on a tiny isolated planet and that he had been sent there by his own people to die a slow lonely death. Ezra had presumed the Empire had rescued Thrawn and then coerced him into joining their services.

Now his thoughts were being forced to reassemble themselves according to Thrawn's words as the true narrative of his career was explained.

"You're telling me that your people _didn't_ exile you?!" Ezra finally blurted out.

"That is correct," answered Thrawn. "I was living on that planet for only a few months, not years as it appeared. I had been deliberately sent there in the hopes of studying the Empire as a simple mission of observation. But being brought directly to Emperor Palpatine as a gift, I saw a new opportunity to study the Empire first-hand…from the inside out."

Ezra let out a sound of disbelief. Whether it was a laugh or a cry, he couldn't tell. "All this time we thought you were some great 'Right Hand' of the Emperor. Now you're telling me that you're nothing more than a spy?"

"The intel work of a spy can undo an entire army. Surely you know that from the rebels' 'Fulcrum' agents."

"Well, the joke's on you," Ezra lashed out. "Even if the Emperor doesn't find out you've been snitching on him, he'll be furious when he learns you ruined the operation on Lothal and deserted your post."

"I have no intention of returning to face Emperor Palpatine's wrath," Thrawn murmured fluidly.

Ezra gripped the sides of his chair. "So that's it? You fail a mission and go run and hide? What kind of a spy are you?"

Instead of answering promptly, Thrawn rose from his desk and walked over to one of the shelves. He then took down a canister and two glazed cups. Again, Ezra was forced to be patient as the Chiss took his time arranging everything on his desk and going through the motions of preparing a hot beverage. As much as the young Jedi wanted to press him to for more answers, a small part of his mind warned Ezra that he'd only look more like a heedless child to Thrawn.

"I am a warrior," Thrawn said at last. "A warrior may retreat but he does not flee. He may lie in ambush but he does not hide. Whether in victory or defeat, he does not cease to serve those he pledged his loyalty to."

He poured hot water into both cups and measured out some green powder into each one.

"When those space creatures destroyed my star destroyer, I confess that I was momentarily set back. Oh yes, Commander Bridger." Thrawn nodded to Ezra's perplexed expression.

"Even warriors experience fear. It reminds us of our mortal shells and encourages us to double our efforts to succeed. You opened my eyes to something I had searched for but never found. The one person who told me that the Force was not his own to master used his power to defeat his enemy."

He slid one of the cups across the table to Ezra. Seeing the padawan's wary expression he said, "That will congeal if you do not drink it soon."

Ezra just starred at the drink and then glared back at Thrawn.

The Chiss responded by taking his own cup and sipping from it thoughtfully. "I believe you may be of some use to my people. It is my intention to present you before the Chiss Ascendency to see if you can be integrated into our junior officer program."

"And why would I do that?"

"Because there are other dangers in this universe besides the Empire. Dangers that you should become aware of if you do not want to die."

"Krayt spit," Ezra said weakly.

Thrawn gave him an unsettling smile. "I assure you this is not 'nonsense'."

The Jedi leapt back to his feet. "What makes you think I want anything to do with you or your people after all the horrible things you did?" Ezra cried out bitterly.

"You tortured Hera!" he shouted. "You fired on the people of Lothal! You enslaved them in your factories! You _killed_ my master!"

His voice rose to a frantic pitch and bounced off the walls. The Jedi's emotional outburst should have rattled the windows if not sent Thrawn flying across the room. But nothing had happened. Ezra realized his own tepid cup had barely budged from its place. A single drop of liquid had escaped the cup; his powers had barely made an impact.

Damnit, why wouldn't the Force help Ezra now to just get away from this horrible man?

The glowing red eyes closed for a moment as Thrawn drew his cup back to his lips. Then he placed it back on the table and opened his eyes. When he spoke, it was in a carefully modulated tone.

"I did not command the death of Kanan Jarrus," he said at last. "Nor did I order the attack on the fuel depot. Governor Pryce has paid the price for her foolishness."

"It doesn't matter who was in charge. He's gone," Ezra insisted bitterly.

"And I regret his loss of life."

Blue eyes blazed at the Chiss. "Liar."

Thrawn's voice grew soft, almost wistful. "Deny it all you want to, Commander Bridger. I do. What benefit do I gain by deceiving you? Why else would I choose to spare your life?"

"I've heard enough. I don't care about you or your people," he snapped. "I _will_ find a way off this ship and get back to Lothal."

Ezra rose from his chair and turned his back on Thrawn. He was only halfway to the door when Thrawn's voice reached his ears, this time stern and hard.

"You defied the Emperor three times. What do you think he will do to Lothal and your friends if you return now?"

The question slammed into Ezra like a wall of ice. He stood frozen in place as the logic of Thrawn's words was sinking through him. He tried to suppress them, to remind himself that this was his _enemy_ , an Imperial officer, a man who had ordered a full-scale bombardment on Ezra's home world. And yet the facts stood before Ezra, blocking every path and turn he was mentally trying to form.

"Would it not be to everyone's advantage for you to remain anonymous and undetected? At least," Thrawn paused for effect. "For now?"

 _"Remain undetected._ " Weren't those the words of Master Kenobi?

"I, I'll find somewhere to hide," Ezra mumbled.

"Where?"

Ezra's mind frantically grasped for an excuse of a sanctuary. Mandalore? His presence would endanger Bo Katan and the Wren clan. Tatooine? The thought of going back to that wretched desert planet made him cringe.

Jedha? Gorel? Some obscure space station? A Mid-Rim casino? There had to be somewhere, _anywhere_ , for a Jedi to avoid danger…

He heard the sound of a chair being pushed back and then feet padding softly across the floor.

"I am offering you sanctuary from the Empire's wrath. I swear that you will be under the protection of the Chiss Ascendency."

Slowly, Ezra turned back around to face the Chiss. There was no cruel smirk, no taunt or temptation in his eyes. His face was somber as he starred back at Ezra. When the Jedi did not respond, Thrawn continued.

"My people have skills and resources that could help you. We can teach you how to think, how to fight, how to use stratedgy in the most unlikely of circumstances."

"I've beaten the odds before," Ezra reminded him.

"With your teammates," countered Thrawn. "And without your mentor or a lightsaber, how do you expect to survive? It appears that the Force has abandoned you your protection."

"It hasn't abandoned me. It's just changed, that's all," protested Ezra. "I told you before that it isn't a weapon to wield. The Force is an energy that binds all living things in the galaxy together. It surrounds us and protects us—"

He stopped talking to see Thrawn examining him with that same inquisitive expression. "Please continue."

"No. You don't deserve to understand the Force."

"And yet you accused me of not deserving possessions that I do not understand," Thrawn said. "How am I to respect the things you cherish if I am not given the opportunity to learn from them?"

He couldn't believe his mind was processing this! This ice-blooded monster had destroyed Phoenix Squadron, taken Hera's heirloom, nearly murdered Senator Mon Mothma, rained fire and chaos down on Lothal, and committed countless other cruel acts. Now he was tactfully presenting facts to Ezra that no matter how hard he tried to deny, could not be avoided.

"You have no heart," the Jedi said softly.

"Doctor Mikh'al can confirm that I do have that organ in my chest."

If sarcasm was meant to be a joke, it wasn't a funny one to Ezra.

Thrawn resumed to sit at his desk. He picked up a graphite stick and started to write something down on the parchment. "The medical bay is one level below. Doctor Mikh'al will complete your treatment," he said without looking up at Ezra.

The Jedi stood before him, dumbstruck and shocked.

When Ezra made no movement to go, Thrawn lifted his gaze back up. "Is there anything else you require, Commander Bridger?"

Ezra's tongue was lead in his mouth. He attempted to put together a word of protest but found himself shaking his head woodenly. No matter what he said, he could not rattle Thrawn.

"Then if you'll excuse me, I have a great deal of work to do before we reach Csilla." The Chiss went back to his writing.

The doors behind Ezra parted and his feet were moving towards it, away from Thrawn's presence. As though in a trance, he found himself following Thrawn's instructions and walking to the lift that took him downstairs.

The medical bay wasn't hard to find. Doctor Mikh'al was studying a petri dish under the lights but turned his attention away when he saw Ezra in the doorway.

Mikh'al put down the dish. "Thank you for coming. If you'll remove your shirt and lie down on the operating table, I'll begin immediately."

Ezra did has he was told, only looking wary when he saw the familiar breathing apparatus in Mikha'l's hand.

"Do I really need that?" he asked.

The doctor's brow wrinkled with impatience. "Unless you prefer excruciating pain to anesthesia."

"Wait, I'll do it myself." Somehow this small action gave Ezra a sensation of control, however meager, as his life had just been uprooted and turned inside out.

He took the mask from the Chiss doctor and pressed it to his face. The swirling pink clouds quickly filled his mind and he surrendered willingly to the soothing haze of medicine. His body absorbed the simple task of sleep when he fell back against the table.

But it was not blackness that greeted Ezra Bridger's dreams. Instead, he was floating over oceans of white clouds, in songs of white flakes that were colder and far greater than anything he had ever seen on Lothal. He saw glittering shards of ice beautiful as newly-cut diamonds yet sharp as to slash flesh apart.

He dreamed of eternal snow and endless winter.

A-A-A

Ezra awoke back in his room, redressed in new clean clothes and covered with blankets. His shoulder felt remarkable; there was no pain at all. But instead of getting out of bed, he rolled onto his back and starred at the ceiling.

Now refreshed and well-rested, he could sense his mind working faster and more clearly. He played the conversation between him and Thrawn over in his head. It was ridiculous, absolute nonsense that the Chiss thought Ezra could be some kind of "Jedi weapon" to fight for his people. And Ezra didn't owe him anything did he? Surely the logical answer was that all of the lives Thrawn had claimed outnumbered Ezra's own.

But as he continued to replay the scenario, weighing odds and deliberating choices, the weight of reality was sinking in. Thrawn could have left Ezra to die, but he didn't. Whatever his intentions, the action of sparing Ezra and having him tended do by the diligent officers could not be erased.

Home. Ezra just wanted to go _home_ and see his friends.

 _"What do you think he will do to Lothal and your friends if you return now?"_

Ezra's stomach clenched up as he realized the consequences. If he did return to Lothal, or anywhere in the Empire's domain, the Emperor would waste no efforts to hunt Ezra down and have him executed. Or worse, the Sith lord would spare Ezra long enough to use the young Jedi as bait to lure his family back into danger. Ezra couldn't let that happen to Zeb, Chopper, Sabine, and—

"Hera," he said aloud.

In the chaos of their last battle, Ezra hadn't had a chance to tell her what he knew. He had noticed out of the corner of his eye that she had she had lightly touched her stomach a few times. He would have brushed it off as a mild stomach ache, nothing big enough to distract the unflappable Captain Syndulla from their perilous mission. And yet somewhere amidst the blasters, lightsaber fights, and explosions, a soft breath of wonder had brushed against Ezra's thoughts, informing him of the seed of life glowing inside of her.

"Hera."

He fell back against the pillow and closed his eyes. Now he could sense it more clearly, the beauty of a new soul taking form within the Force's loving presence. Hera was smiling as she rested both palms upon her growing stomach.

 _Baby_

The word made his eyes sting with overwhelming emotions. He threw an arm over his face. In a heartbeat, Ezra's entire perspective had shifted. His loathing towards Thrawn remained and Ezra still had no desire to cooperate with the former grand admiral or the other Chiss.

But for the woman who had rescued Ezra, encouraged him when he was right and disciplined him when he had erred, he owed Hera as much as he was indebted to Kanan. She had taught him to fly, to be fight and be strong in the face of an overwhelming adversary.

" _We're your family. We support you."_

Yes, for Hera he could—he _must_ —stay away for the sake of her and her unborn child. If Kanan Jarrus could plant himself in front of a flaming inferno to shield the woman he loved from harm, Ezra Bridger could do no less by journeying to a world of ice and snow for her.

So be it. He released a long weary sigh and let exhaustion creep into his bones. After lying in bed for a while, Ezra finally pushed back the sheets and got up. He made his way to a mirror on the wall and stared at it.

His reflection startled him. It was a face that had aged ten years brought on by all the recent strain, a face with too many sharp points and a mouth that kept turning downward after forgetting how to smile. There were gray circles above his cheekbones and his eyes were dimmed with worry.

Most noticeable was his hair, which had grown out and now fell past his ears. Ezra rummaged around in the cabin's drawers to see if there was a knife or pair of scissors, anything useful to cut it short again. During the search he found several leather cords in a box. Ezra stared at them. Then he picked one up and proceeded to gather his hair towards the back of his head.

Maybe it was just the foolish idea of a padawan who missed his master. But it didn't stop Ezra from raking his fingers through his hair to get out the tangles and smoothing it into a single tail. There wasn't enough hair to make a ponytail at the nape of his neck so he pushed the hair higher up to the center of the back of his head and then bound it all together with the leather cord.

He still didn't look like Kanan or his old self. This too pale, overwhelmed Ezra starred back at him. He sighed again and rested his hands upon the table.

It would not be easy. Then again, was anything worthwhile easy?

He knew the answer to that one and managed a half-smile.

What about Kanan? Did he knew about Hera and her child before he died?

Ezra let the question linger in the air until a fingertip of the Force landed upon his mind.

" _Yes, he did."_

A-A-A

 _Later:_

Thrawn stood on the bridge with both hands clasped behind his back. Upon hearing the sound of doors parting, he turned around to face Ezra. The Chiss said nothing about his new hairstyle and merely greeted him with an unfailingly polite voice.

"Welcome back, Commander Bridger. Have you recovered adequately?"

"Yes," Ezra relented. He paused and mustered to add in a more civil tone, "Doctor Mikh'al is good at his job."

"He is indeed. And is your shoulder also improved?"

Ezra gingerly reached with his right hand to touch the place where a clean bandage was secured over his healing flesh. He nodded to Thrawn.

He gestured forward with one hand. "Please, join us. We should be arriving shortly."

Ezra's footsteps were wary as he approached his former, and perhaps current, adversary. He glanced aside at the two other Chiss in the room who had been focusing on their navigation computers the entire time.

"This planet. Csilla," he said. "Is it always cold there?"

The two Chiss now looked up from their work and swiveled their heads towards Ezra. He could sense their red eyes boring into him. Even Thrawn inclined his head slightly towards Ezra, his own eyes opening slightly with…surprise?

He scrambled for an explanation. "I found a parka in my room," Ezra explained hastily.

To his relief, Thrawn did not press him further. He merely nodded and said, "Yes. The environment would be considered hostile compared to other planets."

"Sir, preparing to drop out of hyperspace," said one Chiss at the controls.

"Very good, lieutenant. Proceed."

The entire ship gave a slight shudder as the streaming stars besides them finally slowed down. Ezra starred out at the endless space and twinkling lights before them. And glancing further, slowly coming into view, was a planet. From space it was a glistening jewel of a world wrapped in white clouds and blue frost.

Ezra reached out and rested a hand upon the window. "So many people."

"My people," Thrawn said over his shoulder. "It was for their sake I pledged my services to the Empire."

His voice lowered in pitch and rose in emotion. "Is there anything you would not do for your people?"

At this question, Ezra shook his head. "I didn't save Lothal at the expense of other words like Chandrilla or Alderaan."

"Your opinion has been acknowledged. I suggest you fetch that parka before we land. And one more thing, Commander Bridger."

Thrawn's face hardened again in the relentless role of a leader.

"If you value your life and your future, do nothing to provoke the Ascendency."

A-A-A

In spite of the parka he was wearing Ezra's body still shivered with anxiety. The journey towards Csilla, watching the Saffur dock at a landing platform, and being escorted from one glistening building to another had been a daunting experience.

The Chiss architecture was functional yet intimidating, reminding this strange human being of their proud warrior heritage. Ezra kept tilting his head upwards to see domed ceilings and glass skylines that kept out the harsh weather while allowing dazzling daylight to filter in. He was brought back from his distractions by the guards that surrounded him and Thrawn's crew who ushered them further into the city. The guards, all men in yellow capes with blasters strapped to their belts, starred at Ezra but said nothing to him.

He expected everyone on the Saffur to be taken to some intimidating arena or enormous pavillion. Instead, Ezra found himself siting quietly in the back of a typical office where six Chiss sat around a half-circular table. Thrawn was standing before them and speaking to them in their native language of Chenuh.

"That's Admiral Ar'alani," whispered Mikh'al to Ezra. He gestured to the woman sitting in the center of the table. She wore a gleaming white uniform with a gold badge on her collar. Her features were sharp and aristocratic and her face betrayed no signs of emotions. The admiral's shimmering black hair was bound up into a tight knot at the top of her head. She continued to listen to Thrawn with her lips firmly pressed together.

Ezra wondered what she would think of Senator Mon Mothma.

"She is one of the most powerful members of the Chiss Defense Fleet. If Mith'raw'nurodo cannot convince her of common interests then you are both in danger," Mikha'l warned Ezra.

His teeth instinctively clacked against each other.

When Thrawn concluded his speech the admiral's eyes narrowed at him and she began to speak. Her voice was not soft or smooth as Ezra presumed. Instead, Ar'alani's tone had a gravelly texture to it and though Ezra couldn't understand what she was saying, her words cut harshly through the air like a knife.

No, she was not pleased at all.

"She's angry," Mikh'al murmured. "So are the other members of the Ascendancy. She says Mith'raw'nurodo went too far in his service to the Empire and endangered the Chiss by returning here without permission."

Thrawn countered Ar'alani's accusation with a few swift words and then gestured to Ezra.

"He said you're the reason he's here and—"

Mikh'al was interrupted by another member sitting at the table.

"Approach and bow," he whispered urgently between his teeth. Ezra warily stepped forward until he was parallel with Thrawn and then tipped his head forward, bowed to Ar'alani and the others.

She leaned over in her chair to see him better. "You are the Jedi?" she demanded in heavily-accented Basic.

Ezra swallowed to ease his throat. "Y-yes, Admiral," he managed to say.

"What do they call you?"

"My name is Ezra Bridger." His chest expanded and a trickle of warmth entered it when he announced his name.

"Hm." Her nose pinched up. "Mith'raw'nurodo says you were his enemy when he served the Empire." Her voice was still gritty and carefully modulated as she talked in Basic. "Is this true?"

"Yes, admiral."

"And now you are here. Why?"

Ezra thought for a moment before speaking. "Because I had the chance to kill him and I didn't. In return, he spared my life," he said at last.

A'ralani's eyes flashed like two red gems. "Do you still want to kill him?"

Ezra blinked in surprise at her question. He turned to Thrawn, who was still looking straight forward. Then he looked back at A'ralani and shook his head.

"Is this the Jedi way?"

He nodded.

One of the other Chiss, a square-jawed man with silver hair at his temples, said something to A'ralani in rapid-fire Chenuh. She translated aloud for Ezra.

"We have been told about your kind from Commander Vanto."

" _Who's Vanto_?" Ezra wondered.

"He says Jedi can manipulate an invisible energy field around you, or so his stories claim."

" _Uh oh."_

"Is this true?" she asked him.

"Well, yes. But—"

"Show," A'ralani commanded him. "Show."

Ezra suddenly looked around the room, as if willing his master to materialize and remind him to focus and concentrate. He took a deep breath and let his shoulders relax. Ezra starred at a silver bowl on the table before Admiral A'ralani and concentrated on trying to move it.

This gesture should have been as easy to him as a muscle reflex. But Ezra knew much had changed in the last several months and there was no denying the prickle of worry that the Force would not grant him the ability to do it.

" _Please,"_ he prayed. " _Please help me just once more."_

He closed his eyes to block out their penetrating red eyes, imagining Kanan's warm emerald gaze in their place. The air and energy around him were the projections of the living Force and he imagined them as millions of tiny bubbles floating around them, using his mind to link them together one by one.

Ezra finally opened his eyes and starred at the bowl. His hand was shaking and he could feel his body quickly growing warm, then uncomfortably hot in the room. Sweat was beading on the surface of his brow.

" _Just focus, come on…."_

The bowl tilted just enough on one side and then immediately came back down, making the sound of a small _clack_ that was heard around the room.

Ezra gasped and nearly doubled over, resting his palms upon his knees. He felt nauseous and knew he had pushed himself too far.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I can't do anymore."

Around him the other Chiss leaders were already murmuring among themselves. Ezra's stomach continued to flip and twist itself around.

"But I used to do more!" he added quickly.

Thrawn instantly jerked his head to Ezra and hissed, "Silence."

His changed in attitude startled the young Jedi who put a hand to his own chest to calm himself.

Suddenly, Ar'alani rose to her feet and pointed at Thrawn and then Ezra. She spoke again in Chenuh and the doors parted. Ezra saw a series of guards who swiftly marched in and two of them were behind Thrawn, binding his wrists behind him.

"Wait? What's going on?"

He watched Thrawn being taken away and realized that the man hadn't resisted at all. Ezra felt a heavy hand clamp itself on his shoulder and he was being half-dragged, half-escorted out of the room. Would they put binders on him? Throw him into a prison?

He glanced back at Ar'alani who was already leaving through another exit. Ezra whipped around to Mikh'al as he was being led away. "Mikh'al, please!" he begged.

"Just do as you're told," the doctor said.

Ezra barely stammered again as he was pushed through the doors, down a corridor, and into a lift. He was nearly shrinking inside his body as the two guards flanking him remained mute and monotone. The lift shot upwards, dropping his stomach into his feet.

He prayed he wouldn't get sick on the spot.

The lift doors opened with a _swish_ and all three of them stepped out. One guard entered some codes into a hall monitor, yet another door opened, and Ezra was pushed inside.

He whirled around to face them. "Wait! What is going on?!" he nearly shouted.

"Stay in your quarters," one said in a booming voice. "Food will arrive shortly."

The silver door slid shut. Ezra rushed forward and tried to pry it open but it didn't budge. He punched codes into the wall monitor, knowing well it was useless without access codes. Exasperated, Ezra rested his head against the door and banged his forehead against it twice.

"Please," he said aloud. "Someone help me."

He closed his eyes and released a long exhale. He was alone again.

Once Ezra accepted this fact, he turned around to examine his new living area. It was surprisingly light and airy with a large window giving him a stunning view of the landscape. Ezra drew closer and rested his fingertips upon the windowpane.

Night was falling and turning the glistening snow pink and gold from a fading sun. The towers and buildings of the Chiss glistened in the twilight like spikes of pearl and silver. Shuttle crafts and ships darted through the clouds like birds, swooping down and landing smoothly onto platforms.

"Wow," he murmured. It was indeed overwhelming, but beautiful and majestic.

Ezra stepped away and looked at the rest of his room. He tested the bed, a wide low mattress built into a platform raised a foot off the ground. Two pillows were tucked between a comforter while a larger thicker blanket that rested at the foot of the bed. Mikh'al had said something about Chiss body temperatures being slightly lower than human ones. Ezra reminded himself that this small detail must mean they wanted him to be comfortable, so at least he wasn't in trouble for now.

It would be strange sleeping here in his own space instead of sharing a bunk with Zeb and his heavy snoring. He tried to push that thought out of his mind to prevent homesickness.

There was a computer monitor on the desk, a data pad, and several leather-bound books. Ezra picked one up and leafed through it. It was a translation book of Chenuh. Did that mean he was expected to learn their language? Other books held diagrams of maps, star charts, and detailed descriptions of planets that Ezra had never heard of.

The refresher had more than the tiny rectangular closet he used to stand upright in when living on the Ghost. This one was at least three times as big with an enormous oval-shaped bowl rising from the ground. He took off his shoes and stepped into it. The rim nearly came up to his waist.

Was this a bathtub? Water was such precious commodity in Ezra's life that to sit in a giant egg full of it sounded like a luxury only Core worlds could provide. Perhaps it had something to do with all the snow outside. " _Or maybe the Chiss have access to underground springs_ ," he thought.

Ezra undressed and began working the controls on the wall. The first jet stream of water was so icy-cold that he shouted and nearly jumped out of his skin. The second button released soap that almost stung his eyes. No, this was not relaxing at all.

It took a few tries but Ezra managed to navigate the controls to mix the hot and cold streams together. It didn't take long for the bathtub to fill up and soon he was leaning back, letting the water soak all of his exhausted muscles and into his hair. Steam rose up from the water as he closed his eyes and let the bobbing motions carry his thoughts away.

After savoring this new delight Ezra sat up and washed himself using the different samples of soaps offered to him. The Chiss must value cleanliness to pay such attentiveness to hygiene routine.

Ezra had just rinsed the last of the soap out of his hair when he heard the sound of a door opening on the other side of his room. His instincts kicked back in. "Who's there?" he called out. There was no answer.

The bath water had made his limbs feel wobbly so he eased himself slowly out of the tub to prevent slipping and falling. There was a robe hanging on a peg within reach and he wrapped it around himself before stepping out of the refresher.

"Hello?" he called out. There was no one there. But a tray of covered foods had appeared on the table by his window. Refreshed by his bath, Ezra's appetite had returned and he hastily changed into new clothes provided in the closet and then examined the tray.

It contained two rolls tucked into a blue linen napkin, a bowl of stewed meat topped with diced green vegetables, and a purple fruit that had been delicately sliced and fanned out on a china plate.

He found himself smiling. Even their dining was artistically done. Ezra ate everything and laid down on his bed. He had meant to rest for just a few minutes and then go back to studying the books. But the hot bath and a good meal had made him drowsy and he quickly fell into a dreamless sleep.

He woke up to hear voices in the corridor. One of them was speaking in Basic. The other person in the conversation was Thrawn. Ezra went to the door and tilted his head carefully towards it. The voice was male and had a strong nasal twang. Outer Rim, for certain. Perhaps even Wild Space. Thoughts of endless farming fields and quiet moons flitted through his thoughts.

"When were you going to tell me all of this!?" the man's voice lashed out.

Thrawn said something that Ezra couldn't hear.

"No, it _isn't_ all logical to me. I know you're not fibbing about Jedi but look, we were all told they died out…."

The man's voice had drifted off and Thrawn's voice returned.

"…..teach him…observe…tactics…"

"Yes, yes. You know Admiral A'ralani and the others are right. You _did_ go too far. And I trusted you."

"Apologies….Bridger…advancement..."

"…what exactly did he do on Lothal?"

"Nothing that will change anyone's mind. His abilities, for a better word, have shifted."

Ezra couldn't hear the next part of the conversation until the man spoke louder again.

"No, I don't see any other options," he said, sounding reluctant. "I don't think the Ascendency wants to shove him back into space or let him starve to death in the snow."

Ezra cringed.

"Thank you, Eli. I leave him in your trustworthy hands."

Footsteps walked off. Footsteps approached Ezra's door. He nervously backed away just before the door opened. Ezra gaped at the newcomer.

He hadn't expected to see another human, one who stood a head higher than him and starred at Ezra through clear confident eyes. His skin was browned with sunburn, suggesting someone who had worked long and hard outdoors. Ezra guessed he was eight or nine years older than himself.

"Commander Bridger?" he asked.

"Yes, that's me."

Instead of looking cold and annoyed like Admiral A'ralani, the newcommer's face relaxed into a friendly smile. "I'm Eli Vanto."

He extended a hand to Ezra, who shook it gratefully. "I can imagine this is a lot for you to take in," said Vanto. He let go and ran a hand through his mess of brown hair. "And I'll admit the circumstances of your arrival are a surprise to everyone here, including me. But we'll make sure it all gets sorted out. One thing you can say about the Chiss: they don't stay idle for long."

Ezra was only too glad to meet another human being and Eli's Wild Space twang assured him that he was trustworthy.

"I'm sure you have a lot of questions for me but that will have to wait," Eli said. "In the meantime, you'd better get a good night's sleep. Your training in the junior fleet beings tomorrow."

A-A-A

Author's notes: Like other fans, my jaw dropped at the "Rebels" finale and all I could think of was what would happen to Ezra and Thrawn. With Dave Filoni's reassurance that these wonderful characters are alive, I am hoping that Filoni and Co,, and Mr. Timothy Zahn, have a thought-out plan. They have proven time and time again how to turn a good Star Wars idea into a _great_ Star Wars story. In the meantime, this fanfic is my take on a potential outcome.

My knowledge of the Chiss people and their lifestyle is limited to a few internet sites, the "Thrawn" novel of current canon, and the Legends "Outbound Flight" book. So I've taken some creative liberties in recreating their world and accept that if we do get to see Csilla in this new canon, it may borrow from Legends or have its own unique style.

Mikh'al was inspired by Mikhail Abramov of Daniel Silva's spy novels who is described as having "glacial eyes" and "a bloodless face". He's also what I thought would happen if you rolled Doctor McCoy and Mr. Spock of Star Trek into one person: a medical genius with no bedside manner whatsoever. ^_^


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days were a whirl of surprises for Ezra, who was quickly fitted with the uniform of a junior fleet officer and presented with identification cards and schedules. He was told which compounds he could access, which computer systems to use, and what weapons and tests would be prepared to match his physical and mental abilities.

He found himself thrust headfirst into classes for strategy, combat, self-defense, navigation, and engineering. He hardly had time to ask questions or talk to his fellow students because he was overwhelmed with the amount of information being thrown at him all at once. Ezra didn't think he was stupid or slow but it was a daunting task to absorb all of the information while adjusting to his new lifestyles.

It was a distinct contrast from his two previous lives: the ragtag grab-and-go days of his youth on the streets of Lothal and the structured but limited resources of the Rebel Alliance. This was formal military training and while it didn't sound as inflexible as Eli's descriptions of Imperial academies, life within the Chiss was formally disciplined.

Eli Vanto's own story of his time as a former Imperial officer was as much as a shock to Ezra as the tale of Thrawn's rise to the rank of grand admiral. Ezra found it difficult to believe that Eli had been on the side he and his friends had been fighting for years. But as Eli explained from his perspective, he was a young man who had only seen the Empire as a useful force of order in a chaotic galaxy.

"Of course, all my plans to become a supply officer got thrown at the window when the Strikefast found Thrawn in his so-called exile," Eli explained. "I had no idea at the time but he arranged for me to his translator and then his aide, so our paths continued side-by-side for years."

The young Jedi listened attentively to his words. He couldn't find it within him to resent Eli, even if he had served the Empire. Eli had the formal attention of an officer but none of the arrogance or vindictiveness Ezra had seen in other Imperials. If anything, he sympathized with Eli's past. He had been constantly pushed down and abused by his Imperial colleagues who resented Eli. They had bullied him in school, mocked his Wild Space background, and blocked his advancement for years out of jealousy of Thrawn's success.

Ezra was nauseated to hear how deep pettiness and resentfulness had grown into the Empire and infested people with such malice that they would climb over each other just to succeed. He was grateful that the leaders of the Rebellion, however frustrated they could be with one another and their squadrons, knew better than to stoop to personal feuds. But then again, they couldn't afford to behave selfishly and Ezra told Eli so.

The ex-Imperial nodded to Ezra. "Being here and looking back, now I know it wasn't the life for me. Catching pirates and smugglers is one thing until I've found out the Empire's war machine has grown out of hand and messed with other people's lives. If I hadn't come to Csilla, I probably would have had to face you on the battle field."

"Is that why you came here? Because of Thrawn?" Ezra dared to ask.

Eli nodded to him. "He was the only friend I had in the Empire. When he offered me the chance to join the Chiss Ascendency. I knew he trusted me enough to safeguard something nobody else could learn. So I took the chance at a new life and jumped into a new world."

Ezra knew he was walking on eggshells so he chose his words carefully. "I believe you, Eli. But you also have to believe that Thrawn did terrible things to innocent people after you left."

Eli frowned, though more out of conflict than anger. Ezra watched the brows over his eyes pull down and together. At last, he heaved out a sigh. "I know. I read everything after his debriefing and he denies nothing. You know must know by now that Thrawn sees everything as strategy. It's not the way of all Chiss but it is his way."

"So what happened?"

"You must've heard me using my pipes the other week. I yelled and accused him of betraying his people and his morals, especially after we did our best to minimize casualties in earlier days. He pointed out that the 'insurgents' we used to face had become a cohesive Rebellion and that's why he took drastic measures."

Eli shook his head. "Thrawn was the one person I could trust with my life. A part of me hopes I still can. But I know things have changed and I can't overlook what he's done to other people. I just know you and I have to make do with what we've got."

"So the hearing changed your mind about the Empire?"

"Two events did."

"What where they?" asked Ezra.

Eli's face darkened over. "I got some bad news half a year after arriving on Csilla. The Empire had reached my homeworld of Lysatra. A new Imperial governor replaced our senator without telling the public and they took over my family's shipping company overnight."

"I'm sorry for your family," the young Jedi put in.

He could tell this was a sensitive topic for Eli who continued. "That company's been in our family for over three generations. I can't stand to know some outsider is going to butt in and run it the way they think it'll work. They'll probably run it into the ground with all their bloated bureaucracy."

Ezra rubbed one his shoulders. "What about your family? Are they all right?"

"Oh, yeah. I've gotten information through traders on the edge of the regions and the other Vantos have packed up and moved to a farming moon in the Mid-Rim. Everyone's alive and safe, which is better than millions of other folks, but it couldn't have been easy for my dad."

"You said two event. What's the other?"

Eli gestured to Ezra. "There's you. I never met a Jedi before in my life and all I was taught at Imperial academy was that your kind was gone. Jedi were some extinct animal kept to whispers and mysteries. Now that you're here, I'm wondering what other facts were hidden from the public."

He asked in a lower voice to Ezra, "Can you really move rocks with this 'Force' magic?"

Ezra struggled how to tell Eli that the Force wasn't magic and that his abilities had been diminished lately. "Not really," he mumbled. " _Maybe not anymore,_ " he thought.

They must have cleared the air enough because Eli's face smoothed out. "I'm sorry if I jumped to conclusions. Campfire stories have a way of transforming into legends."

They had reached the end of the corridor they had been walking and now swiped their cards through the computer monitor.

The two young men entered the training room where groups of Chiss were practicing and sparring with one another. Ezra followed Eli by removing his boots and walking across the training mats.

"It may be good that you can't do your 'Force' technique now," said Eli. "To the Chiss, one rises and falls by his merit. You won't get their approval by making things happen with a wave of your hand."

Ezra wanted to protest that there was more to the Force than that but held his tongue.

"I've been instructed to teach you as much as I can from what Thrawn taught me. But don't expect me to go easy on you," Eli cautioned him. He removed two pairs of escrima sticks from a weapons rack and handed one pair to Ezra.

The Jedi flipped one in the air, testing the weight in his hand and feeling its strength when he gripped it into his fist. Eli stood up straight and crossed his sticks over his chest. Ezra did the same. They bowed to each other and then the sparring began.

For a few minutes all seemed well. Ezra let Eli make the first few moves, taking his time to block his opponent's maneuvers and keeping his feet from locking up. He was pleased when he was able to knock one stick away from his shoulder.

But then their sticks locked together and in a spiraling movement, Eli managed to send one of Ezra's sticks flying out of his hand. It sailed several feet away and landed on the floor with a clatter. Ezra instinctively reached out with a hand, prepared to summon the stick to go flying back into his hand.

Eli had taken advantage of Ezra's distraction by jabbing him sharply into the chest with a stick. Startled, Ezra staggered backwards. He wasn't prepared for the final blow as both sticks slammed against his shoulder blades and he was sent sprawling to the ground.

The young Jedi's back slammed onto the mat.

He gasped, struggling for air as he struggled to get back to his knees. Ezra could hear some of the other Chiss whispering in disapproval behind him. Defeat and shame stung in him harder than Eli's attack.

Eli stood over him with a calm expression. "Why did you lose?"

"You're bigger and stronger than me," Ezra protested. The words leaped out of his mouth before he recognized the foolishness of his mindset. He could not expect the Force to be with him as it was before by bringing forth a weapon at his whim. Nor could he anticipate Eli or the Chiss sympathizing with Ezra's personal needs.

"Size and strength don't automatically mean victory," said Eli. He extended a hand to Ezra and pulled him to his feet. In a lower voice he added, "They'll be judging every step you make. I can't give you any special treatment or it will be seen as a sign of weakness. So take this as your first and final warning."

Ezra nodded, silently relieved that the former Imperial wasn't going to rub salt into the wound. Eli swung his stick again through the air. "It's true that you're smaller than me but you will learn to use that to your advantage."

He took a piece of chalk from his pocket and drew several shapes on the mat. "Stand in that square with your feet apart."

Ezra did as he was told, gripping the stick in his hand.

Eli nodded. "Good. Now watch when I bring the stick down, raise yours to meet mine. That's fine. One, two, three. Block high, low, and then middle."

Ezra's feet shuffled nimbly across the mat.

"No need to grip your baton that hard or it'll sweat itself out of your hand. You got it?" Eli asked him. He was given a nod, the younger man's blue eyes blazing forward and locked with focus.

"Grip firm, aim high."

Ezra repeated Eli's motions. The two of them continued to practice for the rest of the afternoon.

A-A-A

 _Two hours later:_

"What do you think of our newest recruit?" Thrawn asked Eli. They were standing in the adjacent room while Ezra had been dismissed and sent off to his next class.

Eli stripped off his sparring gloves. "Ezra looks wiry to me but it must have been from that ship wreck. He needs to build up his body and core muscle."

"Anything else?"

"Agility and flexibility are fine. He looks distracted easily so we'll work on improving his focus." He threw down his gloves and faced Thrawn. "I'm guessing you're interesting in more than his abilities."

He recognized the familiar glow in Thrawn's eyes. "Honestly, he's nothing what I expected when I heard you were bringing a Jedi here. I imagined an ancient warrior with a sword of light. Instead we've got this kid who looks like he just started shaving. How old is he anyway?"

"Approximately nineteen years old."

"Nineteen!?" Eli was dumbstruck. "And he took out your entire fleet and factory?"

"Ezra Bridger's accomplishments are irrelevant now," Thrawn said quietly.

Eli's head jerked up. "Is that because whatever 'powers' he has are useless now? Or does it have to do with that Imperial 'superweapon' we were investigating years ago?"

"You are correct on both accounts. But I have already told you and the Ascendency everything I know from interacting with Ezra Bridger and his Phoenix Squadron. Now that he is cut off from his friends and source of power, he must find a way to make himself useful again."

Thrawn watched his comrade open his hands in defeat. "Honestly, I'm still stumped," Eli admitted. "But I'll do everything I can to get him into shape."

"Thank you, Eli. But Ezra Bridger's outcome does not fall on your shoulders. He must make himself a suitable candidate for the fleet if he is to remain here."

"If not," Thrawn's voice lowered in pitch. "The Ascendency may expel him from Csilla after all. He will fall back into the Empire's hands."

"And that's not good for anyone, right?"

"Yes," Thrawn agreed.

A-A-A

Seated in the dining hall with the other junior officers, Ezra had done his best to be polite to his fellow students. He had hoped to even make a friend. But from the start, he had been met with stares and gapes. Some looked even scared of him, as if they expected Ezra to blast them down with lightning.

Nevertheless, he was formal even as he had been banished to one corner of the table and hardly able to hear the rest of everyone else's conversation. Something about the "Ruling families" of the Chiss. Did this mean they had their own classes of royalty?

"What is the Fifth Family?" he finally said out loud.

Dozens of red eyes swerved in his direction, making Ezra regret his question. They looked at one another, as if daring to see who would speak to the Jedi first.

"One of nine ruling families. They are the leaders of our people and the ones who adopt Chiss of standard lineages into their ranks," said one female Chiss. She gave an arrogant toss of her head. "It's a far more civilized lifestyle than 'barons' and 'duchesses' from your part of the galaxy. With us, the ruling families permit outsiders to join them and rise up in promotions. Bloodlines don't count for everything."

Ezra opened his mouth to protest her accusation when the room's chatter instantly died down. A frigid silence had replaced all talks. He craned his head up to see two Chiss guards enter the room. Judging by their short yellow cloaks and the short-range blasters strapped to their belts, he identified them as personal bodyguards. They stood in the doorway until a newcomer entered the room.

It was a young Chiss woman of indescribable age. She was encased from neck to ankle in a deep purple robe that gathered around her waist with a golden belt. Her glossy black hair fell in a single stroke down the center of her back like a velvet cape. As she walked across the room flanked by her guards, her hair swayed to-and-fro like a living thing before settling gracefully against her back. All of the other Chiss rose out of respect and kept their lips sealed so Ezra did the same. When she drew closer, he saw something glittering on her brow. It was a circlet of silver that ran across her forehead and disappeared into the hair around her temples.

Her gaze barely met his and he caught a fleeting look of a face so flawless it appeared to have been carved out of sapphire. Ezra quickly glanced down before she could accuse him of starring boldly in her face.

When she had finally walked the length of the floor and the guards disappeared behind her, everyone resumed talking again.

"Who is that?" he asked.

The Chiss woman rolled her eyes. "Syndic Ashray," she said. "Beholden to the Fourth Ruling Family. She has been groomed from birth to take her place among the Ascendancy. Should she please them adequately, the Family will grant her full privileges when she comes of age."

He thought of the tiara she wore. "She's a princess?"

"Didn't I just say she was adopted?" the woman snapped. Seeing Ezra's bewildered expression she shook a finger in his face. "Don't get any funny ideas about her, Jedi. You'll get no closer to the likes of her than you'll be able to catch lightning in a bottle."

Her insult nearly knocked the breath out of him. "I wasn't…" he began to explain. But the soldier just picked up her tray and walked away from the table.

Ezra looked around the room at rows of other blue-skinned people, all of them engrossed in their meals or conversations. No one lifted a head to him, not a single voice called out his name.

He starred down at his plate and instantly felt his appetite shrivel away.

A-A-A

 _Six weeks later:_

The Ascendency was unanimous in their agreement regarding Mith'raw'nurodo. By devoting himself to the Empire he had opened up a tremendous risk for the safety of the Chiss people and his infliction towards the civilians in that domain of the galaxy had been considered gross negligence.

Nevertheless, the information in his brilliant mind was too valuable to discard. He was permitted to move about the city so long as he informed them of everything had learned from his time with the Emperor down to every nut and bolt of a TIE defender. The Chiss could use all of this knowledge to add to their own armada.

But this could not alter the fact that a trial would indeed be set to decide what to do with him. Not could it detour Thrawn's mission as he slashed his access card through the door monitor.

He found Ezra Bridger in his room, head down on his desk. He was half-asleep buried between books but lifted his head up when he saw Thrawn in the doorway. Ezra rubbed his sore red eyes.

"What?" he mumbled thickly.

The Chiss lunged forward and ruthlessly yanked Ezra out of his chair. The Jedi found himself rammed up against the wall and then hands clamped around his jaws, forcing his mouth wide open. Thrawn leaned in and peered inside, searching Ezra's mouth for a confirmation.

Ezra struggled against his uncomfortable position, nearly gagging until Thrawn released his fingers. He shoved the teen back.

The Chiss glared angrily at him. "You're not eating enough."

Ezra rubbed his sore jaw. "I'm not hungry," he muttered.

A chilling presence had settled surrounded Thrawn. "Nor are you sleeping enough. Commander Vanto tells me you're falling behind in your lessons."

"I've been trying. I just don't learn the way your people do!" Ezra protested. "It's been hard for me."

The red eyes narrowed dangerously. "You _dare_ to make excuses?" Thrawn demanded. "You, the Jedi who obliterated my entire blockade over Lothal?"

He clenched Ezra's shirt in his hands and yanked him onto the ground. The Jedi lay there, sprawled out on his knees.

"Get up," Thrawn snarled at him. But Ezra did not. He stayed on the floor with his hands in his lap. He looked up at Thrawn through blurry eyes and disheveled hair. His expression was weary and weighed down with sadness, a look of despair in his blue eyes.

This wasn't the same young who had defiantly starred at Thrawn and told him that he didn't deserve to claim anything as a prize of war. This was a lost, confused broken young man. A child overwhelmed with of all the darkness in the galaxy.

The Chiss was disgusted with him. "I bought you to Csilla so that you would learn to become a better soldier. Instead you hide and cower within yourself like a weakling."

"Yes!" Ezra finally shouted. "I am hiding! Hiding from my home, my family! There's nothing here to keep me going!"

He could sense the ripples of anger radiating off Thrawn, his cold flawless logic twined with furious wrath. But Ezra didn't care anymore. He closed his eyes and shook his head.

"I miss them. I miss my master-"

A boot kicked Ezra squarely in the stomach, sending spasms of pain through his limbs. His body bent in half, doubled over with agony. He lay curled up on the ground at Thrawn's feet. The icy voice hung over his head like a razor-sharp sword.

"You fool," sneered Thrawn. "If you cannot muster the strength to fight for yourself then Kanan Jarrus died for nothing."

He stormed out of the room. Ezra lay alone curled up on the floor. For several minutes he didn't move. Slowly, he struggled to get himself up into a sitting position. He curled his arms around his legs and rested his head upon his knees. He could feel tears leaking out from his eyes and the harder he tries to stop it, the more it stung.

Ezra had sensed his own defeat weeks ago when he found himself unable to connect to any of his classmates or the other Chiss. Eli had been kind to him but his own duties did not lend him much time to help Ezra; nor could Ezra rely on Eli to help him.

His body has been consuming itself out of loneliness. His spirit would soon follow as he sank deeper into despair. Ezra just wanted someone, _anyone_ , to care about him and remind him that he wasn't alone in the universe. Someone he could confide in return. He more than missed his family; he found himself dreaming about them at night and shouting out for them when the nightmares became too unbearable.

How much longer would he last on this frosty world? Had the Force truly forsaken him forever? If so, what would he do? Fear reached out to him like tendrils of darkness, slowly encompassing Ezra with dread of what would follow. Someday he would forget this extraordinary ability that embodied him to channel the life spirit of the galaxy. Someday the ice-water in the veins of these Chiss would possess him too. But while they would carry on as proud warriors, he would slip further and further into oblivion. Ezra's soul would crystallize into a fragile shell and he would feel nothing, care for nothing, until a single blow would shatter him into a thousand pieces.

Thrawn's words stabbed into him again and again like a poisoned icicle.

 _"Kanan Jarrus died for nothing."_

A muffled cry of frustration tore out of Ezra's throat. He curled himself up tighter, making himself as small as he could. He repeated a single word over and over again, begging the spirit of his master to help him. But all that answered Ezra was the groan of his own voice.

"Kanan."

A-A-A

Eli knew things weren't going well and opened his mouth to speak. But Thrawn raised a hand to stop him. "I don't blame you for Bridger's lack of progress. The fault is with himself."

"Nevertheless, I feel responsible for his future," confessed Eli. He walked on quietly for several paces. If Ezra's problems were a Jedi thing, Eli didn't know how he could help. But he did have a suggestion.

"Traders will be arriving tomorrow at the outer border. Ezra knows enough Sy Bisti to help with the deals. Why don't I take him with me?"

Thrawn tilted his head to his comrade. "You think this will motivate him to improve."

Eli shrugged. "It may or may not. But it can't hurt. Besides, sometimes a change in activities helps to refocus."

"Is there anything you need before the trade begins?"

"Just the usual mago-shuttle and clearance codes."

The Chiss nodded in agreement. "I am certain that those can be arranged."

A-A-A

It was still pitch black outside Ezra's window when he heard Eli banging on his door.

"I'm up," he called out. He threw back the covers and rubbed his eyes with his palms. Fighting off exhaustion, Ezra got out the clothes from his locker and dress in several layers of the furs and leathers of Wild Space traders.

He opened his door to see Eli in a heavy trapper's trenchcoat and a battered wool hat on his head. "C'mon," said Eli.

They crossed the compound and entered a modest space shuttle, a banged-up older carrier suitable for junk dealers and scavengers. Eli sat at the controls and managed everything during the takeoff while Ezra checked the ship's internal systems to make sure they'd have enough air to breath and fuel for hyperspace.

With a final pull of a lever, the mago-shuttle leapt off and into space in the wink of an eye. It left Csilla behind in a trail of stars and was streaming towards the space station of Eli's destination.

When Eli was confident their hyperspace lane was clear, he pressed a metal thermos into Ezra's hands. "Brought you a treat."

The teen flipped open the top and took a sip. The familiar bittersweet aroma of kaff filled his mouth and made his eyes glow with delight. He instantly felt himself smile as the warmth and energy of the kaff spread through his limbs. Ezra looked up at the other man with gratitude. "Thanks, Eli."

Eli grinned and reaching out, affectionately ruffled Ezra's hair. "You remind me of one of my younger brothers, Samuel. He's almost your age. Maybe someday you'll meet him."

"I hope so," Ezra said. He took another gulp of kaff and looked out the window. Soon the hyperspace route shifted and Eli changed course. By the time Ezra was finished with his kaff, they had pulled out of hyperspace

The station sat there in space, a structure that looked like giant needle stabbing through three large buttons. In truth the "needle" was a lift that took the traders to three different levels of the station. The Chiss paid well for their privacy and Eli made an ideal intermediary. Posing as yet another scrappy buyer-and-seller with a shady background, he was able to trade Chiss metals and precious stones for technology inaccessible to them. These "milk runs" had been greatly beneficial to the Chiss and gave Eli a chance to listen in on what was going on with the rest of the galaxy.

Now he and Ezra stepped down the loading ramp pushing several cartons of merchandise into a large room adorned with energy lamps. They cast long yellow shadows across the other ships and traders mulling about. Ezra could see anything and everything people wanted to buy was available here: stolen statues, laundered credits, racks of spice and mind-altering drugs, exotic animals in cages, and more. So long as they kept the station off the usual scanners, everyone could go home more or less satisfied with their bargains and without having to pay a single meddlesome Imperial tax.

It was a brilliant business.

"Calcifur!" shouted a man with a large blonde beard. He strode up to Eli and clamped a hand on his shoulder. "Where have you been, you scoundrel? Breaking another lady's heart, I'll bet?"

"Her loss, my gain," said Eli. The answer sent the man and his friends into roars of laughter. Eli gestured to Ezra. "My younger brother, Kay. Thought I'd show him the family business."

To the bearded man Eli added, "Doesn't speak a lick of anything but Basic. But I promised dad to keep him out of trouble."

The man all but waved Ezra away, steering Eli towards the merchandise. This allowed Ezra to browse around the other ships while keeping an ear out for the men showing off a dozen power generators to Eli. While Ezra pretended to examine one ship's external thrusters, his ears tuned into two women muttered to each other in Sy Bisti.

" _No way Calcifur is going to buy it. He's too smart."_

" _Relax. It's just a few short wires, that's all. The other eight are fine."_

Ezra took his time getting back to Eli who was taking a break from haggling things over with the man. When they had a moment alone he filled Eli in. "Eight of the generators are fine. Four of them have shortened circuits," he whispered.

"Four, huh?" Eli scratched his chin. "This could get ugly if they think we're hustlers or Imperials in disguise."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Better let me do the talking. You okay hanging around here for another hour?"

Ezra nodded and was handed a pouch of credits. "Go find yourself a souvenir," Eli offered. Ezra thanked him and walked off.

He hadn't gone far when he came to another ship. A woman in layers of handspun red and brown clothes stood before it, a plump baby tied to her back with a patchwork sling. Her hair was barely restrained under her cap but she smiled at Ezra with shining black eyes. He found himself smiling back and walking up to her, hungry to converse with another human being.

"Hello," he said.

"Why hello!" she exclaimed. "What's a nice young man like you doing all the way out here?"

"Oh, I'm just with my older brother getting power convertors." Ezra jerked a hand back to Eli's shuttle. He noticed a wisp of a girl holding her mother's hand and gave her a smile. "I'm Kay. What's your name?"

She darted behind her mother, hiding behind the skirts. The mother gave a hearty laugh. "That's Sarah. She's shy around the traders."

"Hi, Sarah," said Ezra. She peeped out from her hiding place just enough to blink her dark eyes at him. Then she gave him a tiny "hi" of a whisper.

"My husband's got lumber from Kashyk to sell. Usually we stick around here longer than I like but we have to make sure it's all gone. Anything gets past the Outer Rim and we have to run with the Empire at our heels," the woman rattled off. "Of course if he thinks he can keep gambling off those credits I'll drag him back by the ears. You also betting in the rings?"

"What rings?" Ezra asked.

Sarah took her thumb out of her mouth. "Mama, can't find him," she whined, tugging at her mother's skirts.

"I'm sure it's here somewhere, darling. Have you seen a tooka around here, Kay?"

"Eats mice," Sarah chirped in.

Ezra looked confused. "Um, no."

"Well, I'm sure it'll turn up eventually."

"Mama, I'm hungry too!" Sarah begged.

"Hush, darling. Help me take these boxes inside and we'll get you a nice fried dumpling," her mother soothed her. She bustled her daughter back into the ship just as the baby on her back was waking up.

Ezra spent the rest of his hour talking to people about their ships and studying their wares. He had just come up to a kiosk of copper pots when he heard roars of laughter and snatches of delight from a throng of gamblers hunched in one corner.

"Ugh, hope they scrub out the blood this time," grumbled the woman running her kiosk. She threw down a rag and put her hands on her hips.

"People bleed here?"

"Not people, honey. Not unless they're bleeding credits."

Ezra's stomach clenched as he drew closer to the circle of about twenty people squatting beneath an old bronze lamp. They were tattooed, helmeted, and pierced, hair long and dyed or shaved close to the scalp. Mouths were missing teeth and limbs fitted with poor replacements for cybernetics. These were the pirates, thieves, and bounty hunters; scumbags of the galaxy. They were roaring with laughter and shaking one another shoulders as they hurled trinkets and money onto the floor.

Leaning over one man, Ezra caught the strong hazy smells of spice and alcohol above unwashed bodies. But the unpleasant aroma was the least of his concerns.

"Get 'im, you lazy mongrel!" bellowed a man.

"Bite out his brains," jeered a woman.

Ezra could see two small hairy beasts were in the center of the ring and clamped around each other's mouths, trying to throw one another off. One looked like a miniature bantha but with green fur while the other was a short-tailed tooka. The bantha animal gave a twist of his head and sent the tooka rattling several feet off. It scrambled to its feet, licking blood off its torso while the crowd around them cheered and scooped up credits.

"Who wants another round?" shouted a man. Cheers rang up in respond.

The Force stirred in Ezra, sickened at the sight of these creatures forced to fight each other. The mangy gray tooka staggered a foot and then flopped back on the ground. The man in charge of the ring poked it with a sparking wand, sending a flare of lighting through the tooka's body. It flipped over, hissing and snarling at the man.

"Go on! Finish him!" shouted the man.

Ezra moved without thinking. He pushed his way between two people and leapt into the ring. "Stop it!" he shouted, throwing his hands into the air. "You've done enough."

Boos and taunts answered him.

"Wipe your snotty nose, kid!"

"Go back to your mother!"

Their taunts feel deaf on the Jedi who could only stare at the tooka who was getting wobbly again. He stripped off his jacket and bending down, wrapped it around the tooka. It barely took up any weight in his hands and through the heavy fabric, Ezra could still feel its body trembling with fear or hunger.

"The game's over," he announced.

The leader of the ring stomped up to him. He had a heavy metal ring in his nose and orange eyebrows. "It's over when I say it is, kid. Tooka's not yours to take."

"He's nearly dead. It's not worth 'games' anymore," Ezra lashed out. He would have liked to perform a mind trick on this ogre but even if he couldn't, he could feel more energy coursing through him now then he had for weeks.

"Why you bratty—" The man swung a fist at Ezra, who saw in time and ducked down. Instinctively, his right fist came straight up and cuffed the man squarely on the jaw. It wasn't enough to knock the man out but he did stagger back.

Ezra stood before him with the tooka gripped in one hand and his fist still ringing from the blow in the other. Had he done that? Training sessions must have finally paid off.

The man rubbed his sore jaw but then gave Ezra a lazy half-smirk. "Brat's got spirit," he said. "Fine, keep the mongrel. He'd only last another round anyway before he gets chopped up into soup."

Ezra shuddered in disgust. The other gamblers started to protest but their ringleader waved his hands around. "Party's over," he boomed. "Who's ready for a round of liquid refreshment?"

And just like that, the angry mob forgot about Ezra and remembered their thirsts. They scooped up their money and the ring dissolved, everyone heading away to find the nearest cantina.

Ezra found himself standing quietly alone with the tooka still tucked under one arm. After a moment of shaking himself out of his frozen state, he made his way back to the first ship. Sarah had a bun in one hand and sugar smeared over her face. Her mother was sitting in a chair knitting something, the baby babbling nonsense over her shoulder. A man, likely Sarah's father, was standing by the chair and puffing a pipe.

The mother's needles stopped clicking together when she saw Ezra.

"Is this your tooka?" he asked.

"Yes!" Sarah exclaimed.

The mother set aside her needles and got up. "Why, by all the stars. How did you find him?"

Ezra glared at her. "I found him in a gambling ring. He was being forced to fight another animal."

"Oh." She looked puzzled. "So you won him in the match."

"No, I didn't." Ezra seethed at her. How could this family be so negligent? Much to his frustration, they didn't seem to care.

She blinked in confusion at Ezra and then her husband. "I thought he wandered off. Or did you sell him, dear?"

"Nah, that thing wouldn't go for any more than thirty five. He probably scampered off the ship when we touched down here," the man drawled. "Too bad."

"He's yours, isn't he? Aren't you responsible for him?" Ezra demanded.

The mother heaved a sigh. "I can't keep track of that tooka. I'm up to my elbows in diapers what with the baby screaming all night and Sara takes up much of my time." Right on cue, the baby's mouth puckered up and it let out a howl. The mother took it into her arms, hushing it and rocking back and forth.

Whatever criticism Ezra had for the family melted away quickly. His frustration with them was being replaced with empathy, now that his eyes were opening to the reality of their hard lives. The mother surely had her hands full raising her children on the edges of civilization and perhaps she hadn't intended to neglect their tooka.

A thought sprung up in Ezra's mind. "How much for your tooka?" he asked, reaching for his pouch of credits.

"Oh, you can have him for free!" the mother shouted over her baby's cries. "We just kept him on board to eat any rodents that got in."

"Little thing's tougher than he looks," added the father. He scooped up Sarah in his arms and signaled for his wife to get everyone back on board.

"Bye! Bye!" Sarah waved to Ezra. Just like that, the entire family vanished into the stomach of their ship leaving Ezra again, standing by himself.

But this time he wasn't alone.

By the time Eli was winding down talks with his first trader, Ezra had picked up some bacta bandages and a rubber ball for the tooka to chew on. He made sure to keep it bundled up in his coat so that Eli didn't see him rush aboard the ship and hastily deposit the tooka into the bunk.

Now that he had a good look at the tooka, Ezra could see it was longer and thinner than a Loth-cat, about the length of his arm with an oblong torso. He dusted off some of the grime, unsure if the tooka was fully brown or gray in color. Maybe it was even a hybrid creature. He could see a flap of skin torn open close to the tooka's belly where the other creature tried to bite into his flesh. The tooka was lucky not to get punctured in the organs but it kept licking its wound.

It stopped thrashing around long enough for Ezra to clean off the fur around its wound and put on a bacta bandage. The tooka still strained to lick at the wound, now blocked off by the bandage. When it realized it was a futile effort, it put its nose into the air and sniffed around curiously. The tooka blinked large black eyes at Ezra.

"You hungry? Here, try this." He took out a protein packet from his pocket and pinched off a bit. Ezra offered to the tooka with his fingers but after a sniff, the creature turns its head away.

He sighed. "That makes two of us." Ezra nibbled at a bit of the bar until Eli called him back from the docking bay. He dashed back outside just as the man signed something for Eli. He wore a sour expression on his face as he stomped past Ezra and off into the hanger bay.

"Forget him. Get these generators on board," Eli said. "We have to hurry before he changes his mind."

Ezra hastily pushed the carts onto the ship and locked them into place. He counted nine in total, which meant Eli must have taken the eight generators and gotten the man to squeeze out something else in the deal.

Sure enough, once they were space bound for Csilla, Eli let him open up the last box. "He was furious about those last four generators. I bluffed through the deal until he let me have the solar filters at a discount."

Ezra picked it one metallic sheet interlaced with woven blue wires. "What can the Chiss do with these?"

"Absorb power from the sun to heat water." Eli checked his chrono. "Better strap into your seat. We'll be at Csilla soon."

It was only when they touched down back on the Chiss world when Ezra brought out the tooka and explained everything to Eli. He didn't look pleased but he didn't make Ezra get rid of it either.

"You'd better do something about that tooka's smell," Eli warned him. "Chiss are sticklers for cleanliness."

Ezra hastily brushed another patch of dirt off the tooka's head. Eli was right; the animal was sorely in need of a bath. He was ready to duck back into his room when they turned a corner and found themselves face to face with Thrawn.

"Were you able to acquire the generators?" he asked Eli.

"Not all of them," admitted Eli. "The seller tried to pull one over on us. But he's hungry for more fire opals and corithum so I doubt he'll try the same thing twice."

"Then we shall keep that supply well-furnished," said Thrawn

He shifted his gaze down to Ezra, eyes resting upon the mess of fur in his arms. The tooka's black beady eyes glared up at the Chiss. It bared its teeth and snarled venomously at Thrawn.

The Chiss' brow creased in disgust, giving Ezra a moment of satisfaction. He spoke up before Thrawn could critique his actions.

"He's mine," Ezra announced firmly. "I'll be responsible for him." His arms tightened around the tooka. Thrawn continued to scowl as if his gaze could incinerate the animal.

In a voice dripping with disdain he said, "You cannot neglect your duties by tending to that filthy creature."

His rebuke only strengthened Ezra's resolve and he glared back at Thawn. "I won't," he insisted. Ezra found his voice had become stronger than intended. "I'll complete all of my assignments and promise not to fall behind. But the tooka's staying with me."

For a long moment, Thrawn said nothing. At last his shoulders rose up in the gesture of a truce. "As you wish, Commander Bridger."

"Thanks," Ezra mumbled. He pushed past both men and nearly ran into his room, slamming the door behind him.

Eli must've held his breath because he finally let out a shaky laugh. "Well, that was interesting."

"Yes." Thrawn's features smoothed back into his usual calmness.

The two of them remained in place. "I presume," Eli added slowly, "That you didn't let Ezra keep that tooka for altruistic reasons."

"Your assumption is correct."

"Then with all due respect sir, what are you doing?"

Thrawn lifted up his head and gestured to Ezra's door. "Testing a theory."

A-A-A

" _To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world. To you, I shall be unique in all the world."_ – "The Little Prince" by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry

"Easy, easy. It's just a bath", Ezra tried to sooth the tooka.

He had filled the tub with several inches of hot water but upon getting a paw wet, the tooka curled up and twisted itself between Ezra's hands. He kept trying to lower the tooka inside and it all but scratched Ezra with its claws. Not wanting to be shredded to bits, Ezra tried scooping up water with his hands and pouring it over the tooka's back. Then he soaked a towel in water, wrung it out, and threw the damp cloth over the tooka's body.

This time the creature didn't mind and it let Ezra rub it down again and again, as more of the dirt came off the tooka's fur and saturated the towel. Ezra had to rinse it out several times until the bath water turned brown but at last, the tooka looked clean and didn't reek of stale space and rotting tubers.

"You look pretty good, huh?" He set the tooka on the table. "Let's get you something to eat."

Some leftover bits of his meals were on the table so Ezra tried them one at a time, hoping to tempt the tooka. It sniffed at the cheese but didn't eat it. It chewed up a nut but then spit it out into a tiny mound of goo on the table.

Ezra frowned in annoyance. "I don't know what you want," he said aloud. Though he knew it was ridiculous for him to expect the tooka to open its mouth and speak to him in flawless Basic.

Then he remembered what Sarah had said. Ezra glanced aside to a bowl of stew that had cooled and congealed. He had barely eaten more than a few tablespoons the other night and now pale orange blobs of fat sat on top of the cold stew but Ezra used his fingers to fish out several bits of shredded meat. He offered one to the tooka, who tipped his nose up but didn't accept it. Ezra reached out with one hand and placed the meat on the table. Then he drew his hand back, waiting for results.

The tooka trotted over to the meat and bent its head down to sniff it. Ezra watched the tooka use its front teeth to carefully pick the meat up. It tossed the meat further into its mouth, using the back molars to chew and grind it up. Then the tooka swallowed the meat down. Ezra smiled with relief and delight. He dug several more meaty bits out of the stew and lined them up between him and the tooka. One by one, the tooka scampered to each new tasty bit and greedily ate them up, slowly advancing towards Ezra.

He held the last piece of meat between his thumb and index finger. The tooka sniffed warily, adjusting to the scent of meat mixed with Ezra's own skin. The teeth gnashed out again and Ezra's hand jerked slightly, wanting to draw it back to prevent getting his finger bitten off. But he held his ground. The tooka's teeth nipped smartly against his thumb but didn't draw blood. It chewed up the last bit of meat heartily and when it was done eating, the tooka's broad pink tongue came out and eagerly licked the grease off Ezra's fingers.

A surge of happiness swept over Ezra. This is what he had been missing since he arrived on Csilla; the experience to share and tend for another living creature. "That's it," he spoke soothingly. "Good tooka. Nice tooka," he murmured. He let his fingers stretch under the tooka's chin and he scratched the fur there. It made a pleasant trilling sound, a purr that was deeper than that of a Loth-cat.

By the time Ezra had finished cleaning up the table, the tooka had flipped over on its back and was stretching his stomach out for Ezra. He laughed. "You want your belly rubbed, huh?" He stroked the tooka's fur back and forth with the palm of his hand.

Now that it was clean, he could see the tooka was covered in deep gray fur all over its body. But around its torso and ears, the gray was decorated with random flecks of white fur. It looked as though someone had taken a paintbrush dipped in white paint and splattered randomly on the tooka's head and stomach.

"I wish you could meet my friend Sabine. She'd love to paint a picture of you." He added, "If you could sit still for five minutes."

Thinking of Sabine made his heart contract. He was sorry to have left her in the middle of a fight, surrendering the final battle of Lothal in her hands and then fleeing from her and the team with a vague message. If he was able to tell them now where he was and what had happened to him, they'd all be wide-eyed and stunned with disbelief.

But Sabine would carry on. She was more than an adequate Mandalorian warrior; she was a good friend who had stood by Ezra through his darkest times. Her people were proud of her courage and fire but to Ezra, her kindness had emerged and brightened his world just as her beautiful paintings come to life beneath her hands.

He thought of his fifteenth birthday and how Sabine had thoughtfully given him the data-photo of him and his parents that she found found and cleaned up. "Happy birthday, Ezra Bridger", she had said with a smile. Happy Birthday, not "Empire Day".

He hadn't meant to leave Sabine hanging with endless questions before Ezra vanished into oblivion but there was nothing he could do to but embrace the path before him. It hadn't been the one he wanted to take but it was the one with the best outcome for everyone.

Thinking of Sabine back on his homeworld, protecting Lothal and safeguarding his lightsaber, Ezra knew now he must persevere on Csilla. He couldn't give up just yet when he was counting on Sabine as much as she was counting on him to return home. They would find each other again, he swore to himself. He wouldn't give up until they united beneath Lothal's serene twin moons.

Ezra lifted the tooka into the air. "Genet," he said at last. Mando'a for _"gray"._

He fixed a box for Genet to sleep and lined it with a blanket. Ezra placed the rubber ball on top. Genet let himself be nestled into his new bed but once Ezra got into his own bed and turned off the lights, the tooka hopped out of the box and leaped onto Ezra's bed.

"Now what are you doing?" Ezra felt the tooka's paws on his stomach and then the full weight of its body came pressing down upon his chest. He gently pushed the tooka away.

"No, you can't do that." He pounded a pillow nearby while the tooka gave a low whine. "Okay, you can sleep with me. But just for tonight," Ezra relented. He leaned back against another pillow.

A low purring sound responded in the dark. Ezra felt Genet's body curl itself up next to his chest, pleased with the warmth it found against the human's body. The body stilled itself, trilling away as Genet fell asleep. Ezra reached out a hand and rested it upon the tooka's back. He could feel its tiny heartbeat vibrating away beneath the fur, the skin rising up and down with the tooka's breath.

Ezra let out a long deep breath for himself. Slowly, the pleasant sounds from Genet eased him into relaxation and the Jedi also fell into sleep.

This time his dreams were calm and steady as lake waters and he slept throughout the night.


	3. Chapter 3

Genet liked his new Master.

Master did not pull on his tail like Bay-bee. Master did not feed him sticky stuff that upset Genet's stomach like Sarh-uh did. Nor did he live on a ship with sounds that hurt Genet's ears.

Master lived in a room that was tidy and quiet. And every day he brought Genet meat to eat. Sometimes there was rice or vegetables mixed in or even a nice cooked egg on the side. But there was always good meat. Fresh meat. Genet liked meat very much.

When Genet lived on the loud ship, the people sometimes forgot to feed him and he had to catch skitter-mice. They were rubbery to chew on. He liked Master's food much better. Master even set out a bowl of clean water for him every morning!

While Master was gone during the day, Genet bathed himself with his tongue, drank water, played with his ball, and slept on Master's bed. There was a big window looking outside but it burned Genet's paws when he put them to the glass. Too cold to touch. He would sit and watch everything and wait for Master to return. Master was usually very tired when he came back into his room but Genet was so happy to be with him that he ran around Master's legs, leaping and barking until Master picked him up.

Genet liked being petted as much as eating good meat. He liked it when Master scratched his ears, tickled his chin, and rubbed his stomach. Sometimes Master was exhausted and had to lie down in his bed while petting Genet. Other times he'd sit up and speak to Genet while petting him. Genet didn't know all of the things that Master talked about but it he didn't mind. It was wonderful to rest in Master's warm safe lap with a full belly.

Master was good. Master was generous. Master… _understood_ Genet. No other person could know when Genet was upset or hungry the way Master could.

But sometimes Master was displeased with Genet and that was not good. The tooka had learned this after poking his nose around and breaking something on Master's table. Master had said the word "no" several times to Genet in a loud voice that scared him. Then he picked up Genet and shut him up in the closet for the night. Genet did not like being alone in the dark. He whined and scratched at the door until Master let him out in the morning.

The next time Genet tried to jump onto the table, Master shouted, "No!" Genet did not want to be put back in the closet so he stayed put on the floor. Master looked happy with him. "Good, Genet. Stay," he said. So Genet learned to stop what he was doing when Master said the word "no", to follow Master when he whistled aloud, and how to catch a ball after Master threw it.

Ball-catching was fun. But being told "no" could be difficult when Genet wanted to explore new places or taste something new and interesting. It took Genet many times to learn to listen to "no".

Genet would hear noises through the walls and wanted to see if there were more rooms like Master's own. One day Master took him outside their room and let Genet run up and down a long hallway. Genet learned to come back when Master whistled for him or else he wouldn't be allowed back into the hallway.

There were some strange people in the other rooms who came out into the hallway. Their skin was blue and they smelled funny, not like Master's smell. Genet saw some of them speaking to Master and they did not like Master. That made Genet angry. They should not be rude to Master! Genet must defend Master! He almost bit one in the heel but Master told him not to. That was a _very_ hard "no" to listen to.

When Master threw the ball and Genet caught it, the blue people looked surprised. They did not look as mean to Master. One of them tried to pet Genet but he growled her hand away. Nobody but Master should pet him.

Perhaps those blue people were not nice because they did not have good meat like Genet received from Master. If people had more nice meat, perhaps they would be nice too.

A-A-A

 _Csilla, Alpha Terrain_

The speeder chased after the rising sun's light as it zipped across the endless fields of snow. The sky was an empty clear blue that blasted frigid air around the speeder. Though it was brutal weather, all six cadets inside the vehicle were safely dressed in appropriate weather gear. Their satchels had been dutifully packed with proper equipment for the day's expedition and everyone wore a pair of goggles over his or her eyes to protect themselves from the blinding snow.

The small hologram of Doctor Mikh'al hovered before them as the speeder zipped onward.

" _This expedition should take no more than eight or nine standard hours,"_ he announced. _"Your mission is to follow the coordinates written down on your maps and take at least two samples each of geological or botanical findings."_

Mikh'al warned the cadets, _"You will all receive demerits if you do not return to the speeder before nightfall. Failure to return with suitable wildlife samples or without your teammates will also subtract points from your reports."_

A young Chiss male leaned in over Ezra's headrest and asked, "What if we get lost or something unexpected happens?"

" _Two of you packed torch flares. Use them to find each other,"_ commanded Mikh'al. _"Good luck on today's lesson."_

The hologram shivered and then evaporated into nothing.

Ezra watched the whirling landscape began to slow down as they approached their destination. One by one, everyone drew up their hoods or slipped on caps. Ezra patted his backpack gently and was rewarded with a faint purr. He didn't planned to bring Genet along but he knew if he left the tooka in his room for a full day, it would get restless and likely tear up his room. Or worse, Genet could get loose and wreak havoc in the rest of the compound.

At least this way Ezra could keep an eye on him.

Now he pulled up his fur-lined hood and stepped out of the speeder and onto the snow. His boots crunched on the crisp surface and then he sank into snow up to his ankles.

"Where's the entrance?" he asked aloud, looking around. All he could see were miles of snow. Had Mikh'al sent them the right coordinates?

"There," said the first Chiss. He pointed with a gloved finger to a faint dip in the snow some yards ahead of them. Coming closer, Ezra could see the depression in the ground. He watched a slim Chiss girl turned on a light that was attached to her belt and then turn around. She bent down, planted her hands in the ground, and began to inch backwards into the hole.

He suddenly remembered being on Geonosis and how the timid creature Klik-Klak had easily slipped further into his homeworld. Did Csilla also have caverns and endless tunnels running through it?

Someone nudged him in the shoulder. "Commander Bridger, your turn."

"Right." Ezra turned on his own light and rotated around. There was a rope at the opening of the hole and he used that to scale himself backwards, slipping down into a dark damp tunnel.

One by one, everyone made their way beneath ground. The moist cool air filled Ezra's breath and they began walking single-file in silence down the tunnel. Ezra removed his light and shined it upwards to see threads of silver glinting through the rocks. Perhaps this had once been a weak vein of minerals. But now he couldn't see anything that Mikh'al had been looking for.

They continued on in silence for almost an hour with no change in the terrain or on the walls. The tunnel forked into two holes and everyone stopped to check their maps. The team captain ordered them into the tunnel on the left. As they trekked through it, the tunnel started to widen and dip downwards. They were going further and further underground.

Ezra could now see bits of green moss growing on the walls. Twenty minutes later, they passed a red flower pepping out between rocks. The tunnel had now grown so wide that all six of them could walk side-by-side.

His neck was beginning to sweat. "Is it just me or is it getting warm in here?" he asked aloud.

"It isn't you," assured one Chiss. She had a long name he couldn't pronounce but her core name was Ranu. "Centuries ago, Csilla used to be a tropical world," she explained to Ezra. "But that habitat retreated further into the ground. Our ancestors wouldn't be able to live below in case of an invasion so they chose to stay above ground."

"While the vegetation continues to grow down here," suggested Ezra.

She nodded politely at his insight. "Some of Csilla's caverns are now mines that are constantly replenishing the minerals and metals we use for everyday life. But these tunnels were carved out long ago and should still be good for exploring."

Ezra unzipped his jacket and pushed the hood off his face. He was stunned when the wide path at last opened up into an enormous grotto. Even his peers slowed down and stopped to survey the underground world before them.

Cream-colored stalactites hung from the ceiling, the _drip drip drip_ of water landing softly into the center of an enormous lake. The rocks beneath their feet had given way to gravel paths and small green bushes sprouted up to their knees. Ezra shined his light downward and could even see a few insects crawling around them. Surely they would find something interesting to take back to Mikh'al.

The team captain tested the water in the lake with a handheld device and after deeming it safe to drink, everyone refilled their canteens. The water had a peculiar sour aftertaste but it satiated Ezra's thirst.

He opened up his satchel wide enough for Genet to hop out and lap up some water. After noticing the other Chiss' wary expressions he said, "I'll be watching Genet. He's too small to do any harm to the expedition."

The captain glared at Ezra. When he got mad he looked like a baby rancor. "You had no authority to bring an animal on this mission."

"Doctor Mikh'al didn't say I couldn't," Ezra retorted.

"Did he even say you could?"

"Captain, we're losing precious time. We have to start collecting wildlife," said a fellow cadet.

"Right." He squared back his shoulders. "We'll divide into two teams. One will scale those boulders to get a better view of the grotto." He pointed to a series of stones shaped into stairways leading to the top of the cave.

"The other team will circle the lake. We'll meet back here in two hours. Sent up a torch flare if anything goes wrong." He smirked at Ezra and said, "Commander Bridger, you're with Ranu and Kyler."

Ezra heard Kyler let out a pessimistic sound behind him. He obviously wasn't thrilled about being stuck with the human and his frisky tooka. Ranu just looked nervous. But the three of them set off together following the curve of the lake.

A beetle sporting a gold and blue shell ran across their paths. Ezra watched Genet trot off in search of it. "Is it all right if he goes away?" Ranu asked warily.

"Genet knows to come back." Ezra let out a whistle that echoed across the cave. Genet lifted his head to his master but not being ordered to return, he went back to follow the beetle. Ezra wasn't worried; he'd fetch Genet when they were done.

For now he was intrigued by a massive protruding stone rising out of the ground. It was as big as Kyler with a milky gray base that dissolved into a clear, almost glass-like sheen, at the top. This quartz crystal didn't radiate with the powerful light of a kyber crystal nor did it hum a familiar song into Ezra's ears. But that didn't stop him from resting a hand upon the crystal's smooth surface and closing his eyes. Perhaps in this grotto, or elsewhere on Csilla, he could find something to help him regain his connection to the Force.

"What are you doing?" Kyler demanded.

Ezra's eyes snapped back open and he jerked his head away. "Um, feeling the crystal's temperature," he suggested.

"It'll be the same as it always was until your body heat changes it," Kyle replied as-a-matter-of-fact.

"Right. Of course."

"Bridger. Kyler. Take a look at this." Ranu was bent down on the other side of the crystal and pointing to something. All three of them shined their lights onto what she had found. It was the fossil of a fish, the skeleton bones nearly as small as Ezra's thumb. It hovered eternally inside the crystal like a memory frozen in time.

"There must have been an ocean here millions of years ago," Ranu exclaimed. "Think we can take for Doctor Mikh'al?"

Kyler shook his head. "The crystal is too big and heavy to move, even with all six of us."

"Could we just take out the part with the fossil?" suggested Ezra. "We should have enough cutting instruments between us. And if we're careful, it won't upset the rest of the crystal matrix growing."

Kyler's face relaxed slightly. "It's worth a try." He opened up his own pouch and extracted several archeological tools. Ezra and Ranu did the same. For the next hour they chipped away at the crystal bit by bit. But it was hard work and they had to take shifts, breaking up to rest from cutting away and drinking water from their canteens.

They were almost halfway through when Genet rushed back to Ezra's side. His fur rippled and then stood straight at once end. He bared his teeth at one of the bushes, growling softly.

Ezra glanced down at him. "What is it, Genet?"

Ranu rubbed at her forehead. "We have to finish up, Bridger. It'll be nightfall soon."

"No, wait. Something's wrong." Ezra could sense the emotion radiating off of Genet like an ember flaring and knew he was behaving this way for a reason. A peculiar sound rose up from before them, the sound of something rustling over pebbles.

Kyler raised a hand. "Nobody move," he whispered.

Ezra watched in horror as something scarlet flashed brightly against the ground. Then a blood-red trail slithered between the rocks as a long snake emerged into their encampment. The ruby scales glittered beneath their lights and Ezra could see it was twice as long as he was tall and thicker than his wrist.

His heart was banging back and forth against his ribcage. Of course the heat from their lamps would have attracted it to them. Ezra remained frozen in place, a bead of sweat already working its way down the side of his face until it slipped into his eye and stung. But he didn't dare move a hand to rub the pain away.

Kyler and Ranu were also transfixed, their eyes wide in fear as they watched the snake lazily glide on parallel to their feet.

What should he do? This was no creature he could connect or comply with. This animal lived with a single driven purpose: _kill_. Ezra dared not do anything to risk himself or the lives of his teammates. He glanced at Ranu who had let out a small squeak and her right foot made a loud sound when it slid an inch across the gravel.

The snake heard it and whipped its head around. The head rose off the ground, hood opening wide in a looming movement to strike—

" _KSSH!"_

Genet had bolted like a streak of gray lighting, leaping through the air and sinking its teeth into the snake's head. They both collided onto the ground, red coils and fur whirling around in a frenzied battle for life. The snake snarled and coiled itself again and again, trying to throw off the tooka.

Genet fell off once against the ground but instantly pounced back on his feet, baring all of his teeth to the snake. Its forked black tongue lashed at Genet and they collided into each other in another whirl of terror. The snake writhed with fury but this time Genet's jaws were locked tightly around the snake's head, riding around with every shake the reptile gave. They were struggling faster and faster until a sound cracked through the grotto.

 _BLAM!_

Ezra nearly jumped out of his skin when the blaster went off. The smell of burnt powder filled his nose and quickly shook him out of his trance. He starred down to see the snake's head had been shot clean off and was lying at his feet. Genet was sitting upright and licking a paw, no worse for his fight.

The young Jedi started to move his rubbery limbs. His knees were still shaking with fear. "Everybody okay?" he managed to stammer.

Kyler was still fixated in place, both hands wrapped around the blaster still smoking from the shot. He didn't seem capable of moving just yet until Ezra met his steely expression. "Kyler?" he asked.

The sound of his voice being spoken finally brought Kyler back to the present and he slowly lowered his blaster. "I'm fine," he said. Though his voice was also shaky.

"You just saved our lives," Ezra murmured.

Kyler shook out his legs. "I did what I had to do," he muttered, jamming the blaster back into his holster. "What about Ranu?"

They rushed to where she lay sprawled out on her back. Ezra knelt down beside her. "Did it bite you?" he asked.

"I don't think so. It didn't come close enough to me. But I stumbled backwards and…" She gestured to a jagged stone before her. Ezra helped her get her boot off and he could see the blue skin had already turned black and was swelling up.

"Can you get up?" asked Kyler. Ranu tried to rotate her ankle but she winced and bit on her lower lip. Ezra could tell she was in pain.

"Take it easy," he said. He took out a bacta bandage from his satchel and carefully wrapped around her ankle. He had just finished when the captain and other two Chiss had coming running towards them.

"We heard the shot. What happened?" the captain demanded.

"That happened," Kyler said as he pointed to the snake's head. "And this happened," he gestured to Ranu.

"What do we do now?" someone asked.

"We can't continue the expedition," Ezra said. "We have to get Ranu back to the surface."

The captain pushed Kyler aside and strode up to Ezra. "I've been selected as leader of this mission. Not you, Jedi," he spat out.

Ezra ignored the barb. "I don't care about the mission. I just want to get Ranu out of here and into a medical bay."

"Well, you should care about the mission. All of our grades will be affected by this."

This time Ezra frowned in annoyance. Why couldn't this Chiss see their priorities? Did being leader mean the only thing to him?

"If you want to stay here with Ranu, you can. The rest of us are going on," the captain decided.

"That's illogical. Leaving two members behind, and with one of them injured, leaves them exposed to further dangers," said Kyler.

"And Doctor Mikh'al said we all have to come back as a team," added another.

The captain glared at everyone. "This is mutiny!" he shouted.

As much as Ezra would have liked to Force push him against the grotto walls, he was sure there had to be a better way to defuse the situation. He made himself take two deep breathes and approached the captain again.

"Like you said, captain. You're in charge of this expedition. You're the only one who can navigate us safely out of these tunnels," Ezra explained. That was only partially true but he let it slide and starred at the captain with calm blue eyes. "There's nobody else we would trust to get us to safety. But it'll be dark soon and if we split up, we'll compromise each other's well-being. We need you to be our leader."

The captain's red eyes glared at Ezra as if to challenge him further. But Ezra stood his ground and did not let himself even blink. Finally, the captain thrust out his chest.

"Of course I can get us out of here. Everyone, follow me." He snatched both Ezra and Ranu's bags and threw them over his shoulder. The other Chiss lined up single-file behind him, one lagging long enough to scoop the snake's head up into an airtight container.

Ezra let out a sigh of relief, pleased to have defused the situation without a single stroke of a lightsaber. He hoped Kanan would have approved of his actions. He helped Kyler finished the tourniquet around Ranu's ankle and then crossing their hands together, made a seat for her to sit on.

"Genet! Here boy!" Ezra whistled and instantly, the tooka proudly trotted up to him. He was holding a piece of the snake's body between his teeth with some of it trailing on the ground.

Ezra shook his head. "Stay with us, Genet." He and Kyler let Ranu drape her arms around their shoulders as they carried her out of the grotto and up the tunnel. Genet trotted after them dragging his prize along.

"Sorry I ruined the mission," she mumbled to them.

"It was a one-day venture. At least we can get you back to the doctor," Kyler said. To Ezra he asked in a much quieter voice, "How did you get Ma'rabif to comply? He's usually so big-headed he won't listen to anyone beneath than him."

"Like you just said, he's bigheaded. So I appealed to his arrogance," Ezra said.

Kyler's face relaxed. "Good call, Bridger."

A-A-A

 _Csilla, medical bay 437_

The snake's yellow eyes looked no less intimidating when dead. It starred defiantly back at Mikh'al who was holding it between a pair of tongs.

"Crimson asp," he concluded. The doctor placed the snake's head into a metal basin. "Very dangerous. Lethal bite. You're sure no one else was wounded?"

Everyone shook their heads in agreement. Mikh'al looked relieved. "You were wise to retreat early this time. Your judgement saved the lives of all of your teammates," he said to Ma'rabif. The Chiss nodded respectfully to the doctor and grinned with pleasure.

"Commander Bridger helped too," Ranu piped up from her medical bed. Now with her ankle fixed in a proper cast, she pointed to him from across the room. "His tooka sensed the asp coming and attacked it head on."

Ezra felt his face flush from the attention as all the Chiss starred at him. "Is this true?" asked Mikh'al.

"Well..." He fumbled for the right thing to say.

"I'll validate for Bridger," said Kyler. "Our casualties would have been higher if he hadn't brought a predator along."

"Much higher," Mikh'al concluded. His satisfaction quickly turned into disproval when he examined the flares they had taken with them.

"I can overlook your incident with the asp but one of these flares is outdated and the other has a burned circuit. You didn't test your equipment before the mission. This reflects poorly on all of you," he said. "Two demerits will be added to each of your reports."

Everyone frowned or looked away, including Ma'rabif. "You are all dismissed. Return to your dormitories."

The Chiss students reluctantly shuffled out of the room. Ezra stayed behind long enough to give Ranu a grateful smile. She nodded back at him.

"Was there anything else, Commander Bridger? I have a great deal of work to do," Mikh'al grumbled.

Ezra pointed to the flare torches. "Can I take those?"

The doctor shrugged. "I've no use for them."

"Thank you." Ezra picked up the torches in one hand, his satchel in the other, and returned to his room.

Once inside he flipped open his satchel to find Genet sitting on the top. The tooka was gnawing on a chunk of snake meat and had slobbered all over the contents of Ezra's bag. He opened his mouth and panted eagerly.

The Jedi sighed and said, "You're worse than Chopper." But instead of cleaning out his bag immediately, Ezra left Genet to his meal and sat down at his desk. He took a leather case out of one drawer and unrolled it on the table. Ezra chose a wrench from the set of mechanical tools and being removing the outer casing of one torch.

Ahsoka had told him that after the Clone Wars had ended but before she had reunited with Senator Organa, she planet-hopped her way across the galaxy. She started collecting random bits of metal and gears that that she had found on her adventures and carried them around in a drawstring bag. Ahsoka's "junk bag" grew heavy and cumbersome but she liked to take out the pieces one at a time and feel the weight of them in her hands.

Years passed until she heard the call of her new crystals singing out to her across the galaxy. Ahsoka followed the song but was horrified to come face-to-face with an Inquisitor. She managed to defeat him in combat while the crystals in his weapon cried out from being stolen and forced to "bleed" to the Dark Side. Ahsoka released them from the Inquisitor's blade and the one-and-former Jedi apprentice fitted them into her new crude blades. Though she had experienced bitterness and sorrow in her life, Ahsoka Tano had never relinquished her connection to the Force. It reflected her kindness as the crystals restored themselves into glowing white sabers beneath her hands.

Ezra smiled to himself remembering the last time they parted ways in the World between Worlds.

" _When you get back, come and find me!"_

" _I will. I promise."_

It was possible that kyber crystals didn't exist on Csilla at all. Maybe nowhere in this part of the galaxy either. But he'd worry about that later.

Ezra grew calmer as he focused on taking the flare torches apart. Each one had a coil of copper wire wrapped around the bottom of the handle and he fell into a pleasant meditation as he unwound the copper, rubbed it through his fingers, and bending it into several different shapes. He used a clean rag to rub around the inside of each torch casing until they were free of debris.

"Now what?" he asked aloud.

Genet rubbed against his leg holding a glow wand in his mouth. Ezra took it from between the tooka's teeth and continued with his work. The tooka leapt onto the table and curiously sniffed around. Seeing that the cold metal pieces weren't for hunting, Genet made himself comfortable by settling around Ezra's shoulders. The Jedi found himself wearing a living breathing scarf that purred contently and warmed against his skin.

He continued to work diligently for the rest of the evening.

A-A-A

 _Later:_

"Gmmph! Genet!"

Ezra woke up to feel Genet nipping on his right ear. He groaned flipped over in his bed. "Ow! It's the middle of the night." He sat up in bed and switched on a light. Ezra watched the tooka hop off his bed, run to the door and place both paws on it.

His master rubbed his jaw. "Fine. One time up and down the hallway. But that's it," he insisted. Ezra threw on an extra shirt and opened the door a crack. Genet took off in a flash.

"Wait! Come back!" Ezra called out. He tried to keep his voice a whisper but loud enough for Genet to hear. He rushed after the tooka who kept his master chasing him up one level and down another. Genet was clearly enjoying the spectacle while Ezra was getting exhausted and impatient.

After two levels he slowed down long enough to catch his breath. "You'd better not 'tinkle' out here," he warned Genet. He had expected them to run into a dead end but instead of turning back, Genet continued to trot forward to a pair of silver ornate doors.

" _Oh no…."_

"Genet, get back here!" he hissed urgently. "We're not allowed in there!"

This was the Atrium; an exclusive area for elite Chiss citizens. Ezra hadn't been given permission to enter it and Eli had warned him that violating protocol could lead to trouble. Ezra watched with alarm as his tooka easily butted his head against one of the doors and it opened a crack. The tooka slipped inside. That was odd because it should have been locked up…which meant someone was still inside.

Ezra groaned aloud. Better he get into trouble for sneaking into a private room than let the tooka continue to run amok. He pulled one of the doors further open and stepped inside.

The Atrium was a vast room inlaid with glass windows for the ceiling and secured with metal beams. The stars burned cold and fierce through the windows while faint green lights created a path at Ezra's feet. The ground felt soft and spongy beneath his bare feet. He bent down and pressed a fingertip to it. The imprint came back covered in dirt. Ezra stood up again and allowed his eyes to adjust to the dim lighting. No, those weren't lights he was staring at. They were some kind of phosphorous plants that opened and closed with an almost magical green light.

The Atrium wasn't a compound: it was an indoor hothouse. Now that Ezra could see better, he noticed vines wrapped around the poles and patches of purple flowers planted along the pathways. Staircases held pots of leafy green ferns and tall yellow stalks.

The further Ezra headed down the path, the more plants and flowers he saw growing. There was even a fountain with three pools of water perfectly still without so much as a ripple moving across the surface.

"Genet," he whispered again. The Jedi whistled and clicked his tongue. "Here, boy."

The tooka poked its head out of a flower bed and gave a playful mew. Ezra lunged for the tooka and landed on the ground, grabbing it in both hands. Genet growled in protest but Ezra held him tightly to his chest. "No you don't," he said as he got back to his feet. "We're getting out of here."

A sound off in the distance made Ezra's senses twitch. Should he make a run for it? Or hide in the bushes?

The sound rippled through the air like a spring breeze blowing across a spring pond. Ezra's ears strained for the peculiar melody of wind being draw through a pipe. It was…music. Soft haunting beautiful music that wove itself around the Atrium in a mysterious melody and stirred up strange emotions in Ezra. Even Genet stop squirming long enough to listen. Unable to keep away, Ezra's feet softly advanced towards the source of the music. He pushed aside a large leaf hanging in his path to find the source of the music.

It was coming from Ashray.

She was sitting on a stone bench with a long reed-like instrument fitted to her lips. It appeared to be made out of wood and inlaid with silver as it glinted whenever her hands moved back and forth over the keys. Her arms were bare and she wore no ornaments except the band of silver on her forehead. Her white dress seemed to glow beneath the moonlight that streamed in through the ceiling and her black hair swept down one shoulder like an ebony blanket.

She looked like a fairy.

Ezra starred in dumbstruck awe at her, watching her continue to breathe life into her reed and transform into that wonderful sound that joined the sleeping flowers and resting trees around them.

Suddenly, Ashray stopped playing and took her mouth away from the reed. The magic had broken. The silence was dreadful and the shadows seemed longer and darker than they were a moment before. She opened her eyes and turned her head aside, the red eyes starring directly at Ezra. Her gaze was sharp and focused.

He didn't wait for a response. Ezra turned around and raced out of the Atrium with Genet squeezed against his chest. His bare feet slapped against the cold metal tiles as he urged himself to go faster and faster, racing through bare corridors and up sinister staircases. Ezra skidded around the last bend and threw himself into his room. He slammed the door shut and dropped Genet, knees knocking and heart vibrating inside his chest.

Once his body accepted that they were no longer in danger, he felt the surge of adrenaline that admitted it had indeed been a thrilling venture. A troublesome one, no doubt, and there'd be hell to pay tomorrow. But Ezra knew he'd be lying to himself if he said he hadn't enjoyed it.

He glanced down at Genet. "Let's never do that again," he announced.

A-A-A

Ezra had been walking on eggshells for days, dreading the moment when someone would tell him he had violated their rules by trespassing in the Atrium. But nobody did. Over time his fears dissipated and he managed to assure himself that the matter had been swept away. Perhaps the incident hadn't even been real and it was a mere dream forged out of his imagination.

His verdict was incorrect.

Ezra discovered the truth one day when he was heading off to his next class. He had just stepped out of the lift when he found himself starring face-to-face with Ashray, dressed in a formal jacket and with her arms crossed over her chest.

"Good morning, Commander Bridger," she said pleasantly.

Ezra gulped. "Good morning, Syndic Ashray," he mumbled. He managed to step out of the lift and around her without making eye contact.

"Leaving so soon?" asked Ashray.

"I have a flight lesson," he explained, holding up his helmet.

"Let me escort you to the hangar bay."

His heart skipped a beat. "There's no need. Besides, it's a long walk," he explained quickly.

"It would be my pleasure. Walking is excellent exercise."

"But…" Ezra began feebly.

"Unless you're disgusted to be seen with me in public," she suggested. A tinge of accusation rose in her voice and he flinched inwardly. Was that a double meaning?

"No, of course not," he relented.

"Then by all means, lead on."

Reluctantly, Ezra fell into step alongside her. For a few minutes neither of them spoke. Then Ezra had the courage to break through the silence.

"I'm sorry about trespassing in the Atrium," he said at last. "It was an accident. I promise it won't happen again."

She glanced at him but continued her pace. "How did you get inside?"

"I was chasing my tooka. He saw the door was open so I followed him."

"Then your tooka is responsible."

Ezra shook his head. "You can't blame Genet. He was just following his instincts. If you're going to punish someone, it should be me."

Ashray looked thoughtful. "It would be pointless to punish you for your tooka's actions. And if he is an animal acting upon instinct, it would be illogical to blame him either."

He glanced at her hopefully. "Then you won't tell anyone?"

"I see no point in mentioning it."

Ezra's shoulders relaxed in relief. "Thank you."

"You are welcome. Is your concern for the Atrium why you keep staring at me?"

The young Jedi shook his head. "I wanted to know if you always wear that."

"I always wear clothes," Ashray said dryly.

His ears reddened. "No, I meant that." Ezra gestured to her forehead.

Ashray's fingertips reached up to touched the silver band. "The diadem? Yes. I always wear it except when I bathe or sleep."

"It means that you belong to the Fourth Ruling Family, doesn't it?"

Her lips curved upwards. "I do not 'belong' to anyone. But yes, it does signify that I am under their scrutiny until I come of age."

"What happens after that?"

"Then the Ruling Family decides if I am to permanently join them. Or not."

He eyed her thoughtfully. "Is that what you want?"

Ashray stopped walking and turned to face Ezra. "What I want or do not want is irrelevant. What matters is what is beneficial for everyone. This path was put before me and so I must walk on it as best as I can."

Her tone was tranquil, suggesting that she had embraced this destiny long ago and was content to let it unfold. But she did not appear to mind Ezra's curiosity.

"For your sake, I hope they let you join," he said.

"Thank you." She flipped some hair off her shoulder. "Are there any other questions you have for me?"

Ezra knew he should probably restrain himself but he couldn't resist. "Are those phosphorous plants in the Atrium poisonous?"

"No. Why?"

"I think my tooka ate one," he admitted.

"Did you see him eat it?"

"I'm pretty sure he did."

Only now did Ashray's facial muscles twitch. "How can you be certain?"

"He threw up on my bed the other day," Ezra said without thinking.

This time Ashray flinched in disgust. He babbled on quickly, "But don't worry. I got all the vomit cleaned up. Doctor Mikh'al doesn't have to worry about spreading diseases."

" _Oh Force, Ezra shut up! Stop telling the frost-princess about tooka vomit!"_

If possible, Ashray's small upturned nose turned even further up. "Commander Bridger, do you deliberately go out of your way to appear incompetent?" she demanded.

Frustration prickled in Ezra. "I'm not incompetent. Sometimes bad things happen and I can't control them," he protested.

"But you _can_ regain some sense of control, can't you?"

He was starting to get annoyed with her. "What makes you think I can't?" Ezra shot at her.

"I never thought of such an accusation," Ashray remarked coolly.

Damnit, she was worse than Leia!

"Good morning, Commander Bridger. Syndic Ashray." Thrawn's voice murmured to them as he appeared around the corner, facing both young adults.

" _Speak of the devil_ ," Ezra thought grimly.

The Chiss had both hands clasped behind his back and was giving Ezra that hint of a smile that suggested nothing but uttermost politeness and restraint. For all Ezra knew, Thrawn was prepared to deliver an eloquent speech, threaten the Jedi, or break his arm.

He'd probably do all three. The Chiss went on. "How long have you two been acquainted?"

"Just recently," Ashray informed him. "Commander Bridger was considerate to take some time out of his busy schedule to have an informal conversation."

Thrawn looked intrigued. "I see. What have you two been talking about?"

" _Breaking and entering, wearing and not-wearing clothes, and puking pets,"_ Ezra mentally rattled off.

"We were discussing music," explained Ashray.

" _Krayt spit, karabast, and kriffing of all kriffs."_

"Really?" One blue-black eyebrow cocked up slightly. Thrawn's red gaze shifted from Ashray to Ezra. "I was not aware that you were a patron of the arts."

Ezra wanted to choke the smugness out of the Chiss' throat. But two could play at this game. He managed to unlock his jaws and respond to Thrawn with a careless shrug. "I'm interested in many topics. But when you're being chased across the galaxy by a grand admiral, you don't always find time to learn new things."

"Which I hope you will be able to do at your next flight lesson," Thrawn remarked.

Ezra glanced at his chrono. Damnit! He was going to be late.

"Well, thank you for walking with me. Syndic Ashray," he nodded to her. "Mith'raw'nurodo," he added to Thrawn.

Ezra walked off at a usual pace but as soon as he rounded the next corner, he took off as fast as his legs could carry him.

"An interesting young man," Ashray said at last. She pressed her fingertips together. "But he shares little resemblance to our mythology about Jedi and their abilities."

Thrawn said, "His training was informal."

"Hmmm." She rested her fingertips against her chin. "I hope we are not being misled by taking in an infiltrator who was brought here under your recommendation."

Thrawn's eyes narrowed at Ashray. "My loyalty to Csilla is unwavering."

Her eyes slid upwards to meet Thrawn. "I don't question your loyalty, Mith'raw'nurodo. It is your methods that concern me, as do many others in the Ascendency. The verdict has yet to come out if you are guilty of the crimes you have been accused of. Our ban of capital punishment may yet be revoked."

"Be careful, Ashray," he warned her in a dangerously quiet voice. "You may be ward to a Ruling Family but you do not have authority over me."

"And as Commander Bridger reminded us both, you are no longer a Grand Admiral of any kind," she countered.

Thrawn leaned forward slightly, his great height towering over Ashray. His tone was glacially calm as he asked, "Is that a threat?"

She met his gaze with her own cool stare until Ashray yielded with a shake of her head. "I wouldn't dare battle someone whose strength and experience exceeds my own," she answered.

"For your sake, I hope you remember that."

A-A-A

 _3 weeks later:_

One of the disadvantages of the Rebel Alliance was a limited budget, which meant precious resources like fuel for ships and carriers had to be regulated. Pilots who had previous experience, even farmers or freighters, were preferred combat soldiers since they didn't need to be trained as often out in space. Others had to make do with computer simulations until the real battles broke out.

Ezra knew he had been granted an advantage from living on the Ghost. Hera supplied nearly all of the fuel for her ship from performing "milk runs" and was able to give Ezra hands-on lessons in the cockpit. You couldn't ask for a better education than being taught by one of the best pilots in the fleet and traveling in one of the fastest ships in the galaxy.

Now seated in a one-person ship called a Cloudbreaker, Ezra was climbing higher into Csilla's sky. Cloudbreakers were logically named for their abilities to withstand intense climate but this day the only clouds he could see were faint wisps of white in the air.

Ezra tilted the steering lever downward and his Cloudbreaker tipped to the right, dropping into an elegant swoop. The ground rushed up to meet him, sunlight flashing off his windows as a surge of excitement leaped up from his stomach.

He had nearly forgotten how much fun it was to fly! Even if this was a training exercise, it was still a thrilling experience to be soaring above the ground.

Four other Cloudbreakers rose up to meet his own and they continued onward in formation.

" _Steady with increasing altitude,"_ cautioned another pilot. His voice came through loud and clear through the comm-link in Ezra's helmet. _"Our target should be up ahead."_

" _My scanners are picking up something! Two thousand meters ahead and approaching!"_ someone called from her Cloudbreaker.

A black metallic drone with a hexagonal dome on the top slid into Ezra's focus. The dome ejected several feet up and began flashing red and blue lights at the Cloudbreakers. Ezra chose to slow down his speed and save his fuel. There was no point in approaching it until he knew what it would do. For now, he kept his thumb on the target button.

" _Incoming!"_

Something glinted in the center of the dome just before hundreds of metallic spikes shot out of its holes and tore through they air. They rushed towards the ships and smashed into their hull plates causing chaos and confusion. Ezra heard a muffled _thunk thunk_ sound as several spikes tore into the sides of his Cloudbreaker. His computer scanner was beeping and flashing red lights, warning him that the rear rudder of his ship was damaged. He was still flying but his movements were jerkier than before.

" _Fall back! Fall back!"_ Kyler shouted.

One by one, the Cloudbreakers broke off their formation and flew away from the drone. Ezra could see though the scanners that it was still chasing them, more metal spikes swarming towards them like a wave of hungry locusts. Some of them smashed into one Cloudbreaker's wings and he watched a trail of smoke bleed out of the ship.

" _I'm hit! I've got to land before I lose all control_ ," the pilot announced.

Ezra was relieved to see that ship descend further to the ground, out of the way of the drone's firing power. But he and the other Cloudbreakers continued encircling and spiraling in the air, trying to avoid further direct hits. Ezra increased his speed as he tried to get a lock on the drone but it continued to evade him.

"Come on, come on," he muttered under his breath.

" _We'll split up into pairs and try to lose the drone in the mountain range up ahead,"_ called the leader. " _Kyler, Bridger, you two ready?"_

" _Yes."_

"Roger, roger," Ezra chimed back.

" _What!?"_

"Never mind." Ezra couldn't resist adding in a little Clone War humor even in the middle of a fight. Though as he and Kyle steered their Cloudbreakers down and into the mountain range he could still imagine Rex warning him, _"Settle down, soldier."_

He knew he shouldn't get cocky with that drone on their heels. But remembering Rex gave Ezra an idea.

"Kyler, how are you holding up?"

" _Weapons are still online but my shields are at thirty percent. Why do you ask?"_

Ezra adjusted his audio sensors so that he could communicate with the other pilots. "Everyone, I have an idea. When we regather formation at the end of the mountains, use the Sword and Shield maneuver."

" _What's that?"_ someone asked.

"Three of us block, one of us fires. That drone has to slow down between launching its first and second wave of assault. If we can mow down the first wave with our blaster shots, Kyler has a chance to hit the droid with his missile."

" _Me?"_ questioned Kyler.

"I saw how you kept your cool when you killed that snake in the grotto," explained Ezra. "You've got the focus and aim we need to take out the drone. Don't worry about your shields. We'll provide cover for you."

" _Not like we've got other options_ ," one pilot muttered.

" _I'm in,"_ Kyler announced.

" _So am I_ ," said another.

Ezra tilted the controls so that his ship was scaling up the side of one craggy peak. "Then let's do this."

A sweet rush of energy fueled his mind when they exited the range and saw the drone before them. Ezra instructed Kyler to draw his ship back to protect himself while he and the other Cloudbreakers advanced towards the drone.

This time when the drone launched its next assault of spikes, Ezra angled all his attentions in on the oncoming shots. His thumbs pressed madly up and down on the firing buttons, blasting every single spike he could see coming his way. His mind was burning vigorously, all attentions on the menacing entourage and eliminating it as fast as possible.

" _Keep going, keep firing_ ," he told himself as he continued shooting away. He could feel the controls getting hot even through his pilot's gloves. His head was getting damp inside the helmet and breaking out into sweat. But Ezra had to take out as many of those spikes so that Kyler could get a clear shot.

A fresh spike landed in the side of his engine and Ezra felt his entire Cloudbreaker jostle from the impact.

" _Bridger! You still with us?"_

"Yes! Take your shot!"

He watched in his computer panel as the glowing green triangle that was Kyler's ship maneuvered into position. A red bullet burst out of his Cloudbreaker, racing just below Ezra's vision, and hit the drone squarely in the center. It exploded into a shower of yellow sparks and billowing clouds of smoke.

Ezra pumped up his arms with excitement. "Yes! Way to go, Kyler!" he shouted.

A-A-A

His feet were wobbly and his heart was still dancing away to a wild beat but Ezra couldn't stop grinning when they landed back in the hanger bay. No sooner had he climbed out of the Cloudbreaker than two technicians rushed in to examine damages.

"Your rudder will have to be replaced," said one of them.

"Is that bad? I did the best I could but our mission was to take out the droid."

She assured him it was not a major problem and that he and his fellow pilots would receive excellent reports for completing their task.

"If you enjoyed flying a Cloudbreaker, you should see some of our larger ships built for extensive space travel," she added. The Chiss technician pointed to a much larger vehicle at one end of the hanger bay.

It reminded Ezra of the Saffur, but this one had twin sloping wings similar to star skiffs and a cone-shaped nose made of a smooth hard ceramic material. The ship was deep blue with silver strips running along the sides. Walking towards it, Ezra thought it had an efficiency yet elegance design that was unlike the Ghost or any Rebel ship he had flown.

This one was still missing a few major pieces, given by the gaps where some metal panels had to be fitted into the hull. But there was no denying the presence of this ship commanded respect and Ezra's fingertips tingled when he came to a halt in front of it.

He reached out to touch the side of the ship when a mechanic on top yelled, "Hey!" He flipped back the shield protecting his blue face and scowled at Ezra. "This is off-limits to junior officers," he snapped as he brandished a plasma cutter.

"Sorry, sorry." Ezra stepped away quickly and headed towards the dormitories. He had only gone a quarter of the way when a voice spoke nearby.

"It's the Springhawk," said the man. Ezra found himself walking alongside Kyler who had just caught up. "What do you think of it?"

Ezra glanced back at the Springhawk wistfully. "It's beautiful. I hope I could travel in one of those ships someday."

"Those Chiss cruisers have at least two pilots and a navigator," Kyler informed him. "But they're in high demand and the Defense Fleet decides on every member of the crew."

"So the chances of me getting to serve on a cruiser are as likely as catching lightning in a bottle, huh?"

Kyler looked perplexed but then nodded. "If your allegory means 'not likely' then yes. But we may get our chance in few years."

"We may," Ezra agreed. He took a breath and dared to go on. "We make a good team, don't you think?"

Much to his delight, Kyler showed a genuine smile full of strong white teeth. "We do indeed. I was just blind not to notice it before. That Sword and Shield maneuver was a clever tactic."

"Thanks, but it wasn't mine. I learned it from a Clone War veteran."

"The Clone Wars?" Kyle sounded intrigued. "Mith'raw'nurodo told us briefly about that conflict."

"The war ended before I was born," Ezra confessed. "But my friend Captain Rex told me everything about his years on the front lines. If you're interested, I'd be glad to share his stories."

"Really?" Kyler's eyes glowed with fascination. "Then I'd be glad to listen to them, Commander Bridger."

He found himself grinning back. "Ezra," he insisted.

Kyler nodded. "Ezra it is."

They shook hands and promised to swap tales in the dining hall that night. So despite the back of Ezra's uniform sticking to his spine, he was elated when he came back to his dormitory hall. In fact, he hadn't felt this good since fighting with Phoenix Squadron.

"Commander Bridger." Admiral Ar'alani stood before his door in her fleet uniform. He clamped his hands to his sides, hoping to restrain the sweat seeping through his skin.

He bowed respectfully to her. Her face was impassive as a marble statue as Ar'alani stared at Ezra for several moments.

Then she said, "Some member of the Defense Fleet, including myself, were concerned at the start of your education here. But I have read the reports from your instructors and you have made considerable improvements over the last two months."

He let out a little gasp of relief. "Thank you, Admiral."

The tepidness of her tone did little to assure him it was a compliment. Ezra hoped she would dismiss him soon. He desperately wanted to peel off the sticky uniform and wash the day's grime away in the refresher.

The admiral waved a hand regally through the air. "You will dine with the Fourth Ruling family and myself tomorrow night," she announced. "Garments will be sent to your quarters beforehand and an escort will take you to the hall."

This was clearly a command, not an invitation, and the shock of this instant surprise left Ezra speechless for a second. Overcoming the tight knot that had just formed in his gut, he cleared his throat and said, "I would be honored."

The admiral gave him a nod of approval, turned on heel, and walked off.

" _Well, this just got a lot more interesting,"_ he thought. Just when you thought you found your footing, something new tries to trip you up. A nice dinner should be easy compared to taking out a murderous drone. But to be under the watchful eye of a Ruling Family for an entire evening did not sound easy.

" _I'm sure everything will go horribly wrong_ ," Kanan had once said before a mission. That was before battle droids nearly killed them all and the Empire decided to show up for the party.

Ezra knew he would prefer facing the a droid army to a formal meal. But that wasn't his decision to make and he'd just have to put his best foot forward.

He sniffed under one armpit. Phew. A shower was _definitely_ mandatory. There was no way he would going to show up for dinner reeking like a stale onion.

" _A bath would be better_ ," he concluded. Ezra stepped into his room and Genet leaped happily into his arms.

A-A-A

Genet's personality is inspired by the delightful character Rikki-Tikki-Tavi from the short story of the same name by Rudyard Kipling. Bibliophiles will also know him as the writer of "The Jungle Book". Many a happy childhoods have been spent curled up on a sofa reading his literature and I count myself among those fortunate souls.

If you've read "Hyacinth" then you know I love throwing crazy women at Ezra. ^_^


	4. Chapter 4

The bath was ideal for smoothing out Ezra's aches and pains from being crammed into Cloudbreakers for weeks. After climbing out of the bathtub he found a package of clothes had arrived and already been placed on his bed. A fascinated Genet kept poking at the crinkly paper with a paw.

Ezra opened it up to find a white tailored jacket that came to mid-thigh and fastened down the chest with a row of black-and-gold clasps. The black pieces gleamed so finely they resembled gems rather than standard buttons. There was a pair of creased brown trousers, short brown boots, and a long narrow piece of dark red fabric.

This last item caused Ezra at least twenty minutes of frustration as he wrestled with it, trying to figure out how to wear it. Eli finally arrived and much to the Jedi's gratitude, explained him that it was a sash belt meant to be wound around the waist twice and then tied off on the left.

Ezra still wished Eli could go with him and begged the ex-Imperial to attend the dinner. Eli laughed, though kindly.

"No thanks. I've been to enough fancy parties and shindigs on Coruscant to last me a lifetime," he chuckled. "Besides, I wasn't invited. It wouldn't be protocol to show up unannounced."

"Even if we were attacked?" Ezra asked. He was on the other side of the painted mural dividing the room as he finished knotting the sash.

"If Vagaari slavers attempt to invade this planet in the next three hours, the cruiser ships will cut them to ribbons. Sorry, Ezra."

He heard the young Jedi give an exasperated sound through his nose. Then he pushed the mural aside and stepped forward. "What do you think?"

Eli said nothing as he starred at Ezra from across the room. Coruscant elite had ways of tilting their chins and narrowing their eyes while sarcasm dripped off their lips. Arrogance oozed out of every pore of their bodies.

There was not a trace of that self-absorbed pride in the young Jedi's expression. If anything, Eli thought he looked humble to the point of self-condemnation.

"Hold your head higher," he instructed Ezra. "And look me in the eye. If you shuffle in like a scared skittermouse, the Chiss will see that as a sign of weakness, or worse, disrespect."

A thoughtful expression crossed Ezra's face as he absorbed the other man's advice. He closed his eyes as he squared back his shoulders and straightened his spine. Then he opened his eyes to face Eli.

" _Much better,"_ he thought. Ezra had grown another inch since arriving to Csilla but the white jacket had been tailored perfectly to his athletic figure. His fingernails and face had been scrubbed clean and his blue-black hair was brushed off his face, bound into a single tail at the nape of his neck. There was a frankness in his blue eyes, an aura of honesty and sincerity that Eli had seldom seen in other people.

" _He could pass as a junior senator_ ," Eli realized. " _Or even a Mid-Rim prince."_

"Good?" asked Ezra.

"More than good. You'll be fine. The rest is just basic etiquette: no elbows on the table, slurping your soup, or interrupting other people with a mouthful of food. Think you can remember all of that?"

Ezra smiled faintly and his posture relaxed just enough to show he was getting into the role. "Yes."

Eli patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. "One last thing. Confectioneries and rare drinks are served at the end of formal meals. Chiss tastes are different than ours so go easy on dessert. Some of those treats are so sweet and spicy they'll knock your teeth out."

"Got it."

A-A-A

The central color in the dining hall was yellow, evident from the sun-colored tapestries hanging on the walls that depicted native birds and flowers of Csilla, as well as the golden tablecloth before them. The table was set with blue and gold-rimmed dishes, sparkling glasses, and polished silver utensils.

Ezra recognized the chewy green noodles served in broth that had become one of his favorites. There were new foods too: thinly-sliced meats cooked in rich red sauces, savory fried dumplings filled with vegetables, mashed tubers topped with melting butter, bowls of orange rice sweetened with fruit juices, and more. Ezra was careful not to put anything bigger than a forkful of food into his mouth in case he might accidentally spit out something.

The food was good but that was all Ezra could compliment on. Admiral Ar'alani and seven members of the Fourth Family were seated at the head of the table while he had been banished to the other end. From the moment they had taken their seats no one had uttered a word to him or made eye contact with him, not even Admiral Ar'alani.

They conversed among themselves in Chenuh and acted as though their guest wasn't even present. Towards the second course Ezra wondered if this scenario had been a prearranged test how their Jedi guest would handle being snubbed. He decided it was and chose to stick it out by remaining mute, only opening his mouth to eat or drink.

That still didn't make the evening easier. He was bored and lonely.

After more than an hour he was getting fidgety. The jacket was squeezing his shoulders and he longed to change back into his more comfortable uniform. Ezra couldn't wait to leave these pinch-nosed Chiss and go back to his dormitory where he could play with Genet or do his lessons with Kyler and Ranu. The other two junior fleet members had been treating Ezra with civility after their encounter with the snake and had soon thawed into relaxed trust. Perhaps friendship was not far off.

Ezra had been pushing a dumpling back and forth across his plate when the servant came back to clear their plates for the final course. Finally, this dull meal would end soon.

As Eli had said, small plates of pastries topped off the meal. Like the other Chiss around the table, Ezra's dessert had come with a red lacquered cup filled with the fragrant herbal brew they drank often. It wasn't kaff but the taste was growing on Ezra. Next to his elbow appeared a slender crystal glass filled with a pale golden liquid.

Ezra eyed it with intrigue. Was this alcohol? He instantly thought of the time he was ten years old and had pickpocketed a stranger's flask of apple brandy on Lothal. The brandy tasted so sweet that Ezra had greedily gulped it all down and then spent the rest of his week sick in his tower.

Where Jedi forbidden to indulge in spirits? Or would it be permitted for social and diplomatic reasons? Surely one wouldn't want to offend a host by turning it down. Ezra glanced across the table where the other Chiss were drinking from their glasses.

" _Come to think of it, I've never seen Kanan drink. Not even once,"_ he realized. The Jedi knight did admit to Ezra that drinking had indeed been part of his daily (and nighttime) routine as a self-pitying man who bar-hopped his way through the universe. His confession perplexed the padawan who couldn't imagine his self-restrained master touching a single drop.

"But that was another life," Kanan said gravely. "I knew I had to get myself straightened out if I wanted to be part of Hera's crew. With her help, I did."

He had turned his head in Ezra's direction and added, "If you ever feel yourself falling into despair, reach out to me. Reach out to your friends. Reach for the Force. But never reach for a bottle. Once you pick it up, you'll never want to let go."

With a mixture of restraint and curiosity, Ezra brought the glass to his lips and took a small sip. He tasted tartness and then a hint of smoky flavor fanned out across his tongue. Not bad. Ezra swallowed and felt the cool drink slid gracefully down his throat and unspool itself in his stomach. Tendrils of heat crept back up his chest, releasing tension in his limbs. Ezra felt his entire body begin to relax.

" _So this is what a drink does do you,"_ he thought.

The presence of two more people caused everyone else to cease talking. Ezra watched Thrawn and Ashray enter the room. Thrawn bowed to the other Chiss while Ashray curtsied politely. One of the ruling family members gestured for Thrawn to take a seat among them, which he did. Ashray slid into a seat next to Ezra.

The young woman wore a dress of black silk embroidered with small gold flowers around the hem and collar. Square-cut red gems glittered in her ears. The warm spicy fragrance of her perfume swept over Ezra's face and tickled his nose. His muscles instantly bunched up.

"I hope you have been enjoying yourself this evening," Ashray said to him.

Ezra felt a mixture of relief that someone was talking to him at last and concern that his behavior would be further scrutinized. "It's been nice," he stated flatly.

Ashray tilted her head towards him causing one of her earrings to wink in the light. Ezra's face grew warm and he added, "You look nice too." Kriff, should he not have said that?

She gave him a pleasant smile. "Thank you."

The cordiality in her tone motivated Ezra to ask in a lower voice, "Do you know what they're talking about?"

"Not yet." She made a show of selecting a pastry filled with blue cream and Ezra noticed how Ashray took her time sampling it while keeping her attention on one of the tapestries instead of her fellow Chiss.

She dabbed at her lips with a napkin then spoke softly to Ezra. "They are discussing engineering. Mith'raw'nurodo has been supplying the defense fleet with information on Imperial technology. They want to integrate some of those devices into our own ships."

"Like the TIE factory on Lothal," Ezra murmured allowed. Seeing Ashray's puzzled expression he explained further. "Imperial TIEs are similar to your Cloudbreakers. Thrawn was operating a top-secret factory on my homeworld to design and produce TIEs with effective shields. My friends and I in the Rebellion kept watch on Lothal until we were able to launch an attack on the factory."

Ashray cupped her beverage in her hands and sipped at it. "Unless there are copies of his information elsewhere in the Empire, these new TIEs won't come to production, will they?"

He felt one corner of his mouth perk up into a smile. "Nope."

But Ashray did not return the smile. She put a finger to her lips and then listened to the rest of the conversation from the other side of the table. She translated for Ezra.

"Some members want Mith'raw'nurodo to be integrated back into the fleet. But Admiral Ar'alani and some of the others do not trust him with military command again."

"I agree with her," he spoke out.

The thought justice crashing down upon Thrawn's head was not an unpleasant scenario. Ezra was still determined that Thrawn would have to face his crimes. Yet something itched in the back of his mind, an opinion half-formed cautioning Ezra about this line of thought. Perhaps because he was still considered a guest and outsider among the Chiss, it would not be his call to decide Thrawn's future.

"Commander Bridger," said one of the Chiss, finally addressing him.

Ezra straightened up in his chair. "Yes, Lord Nirasu?"

Lord Nirasu spoke in a louder voice so all could here. "Mith'raw'nurodo claims his knowledge of Imperial warfare could potentially be assimilated into our fleet. What do you think of that impact on your education here?"

The young Jedi placed both hands on the table. "I don't see any conflict. Your fleet must do as it sees fit," he answered the Chiss evenly.

Nirasu's eyes narrowed at their guest. "Then you would not be distressed to use your enemy's technology in combat?"

He shook his head. "It happened often in the Rebellion. We had limited resources and if it meant using surplus or stolen weapons from the Empire, we modified them to our needs," Ezra explained. "Some of our ships were even refitted from the last conflict in our part of the galaxy."

"The Clone Wars," Ar'alani suggested. He nodded respectfully to her.

"But Jedi are said to be peacekeepers," Nirasu insisted. "How can you justify engaging in open warfare? Isn't that hypocrisy?"

His question hit Ezra like an invisible fist into his chest. Nirasu made it sound as if the Jedi were criminals for taking affirmative actions. How could he, or any of these Chiss, understand what it mean to be constantly under the Empire's rule? To live in constant fear that an informal comment uttered or a miscounted crate would endanger your life.

Angered simmered within Ezra. These blue-skinned people who had created a secure thriving civilization had never witnessed the terrible things Ezra had seen in his young life or known his frustration of being a helpless child, lost and abandoned without his parents. Nor had they known what it meant to be Caleb Dume, on the run and marked for death, at the age of thirteen.

No sooner had Ezra thought of this then Kanan's calm wise face materialized into his thoughts. For all of the losses he had suffered, Kanan had never forsaken his duty as a Jedi or his allegiance to the Force. He knew that if war had brought misery to innocent lives, a Jedi was obligated to take up his lightsaber and bring them out of danger and into freedom. A Jedi must not charge recklessly into battle, of course, but go forth with levelheadedness and good judgement.

" _It's not whether or not we fight,"_ Kanan had said. " _But how we chose to fight that matters,_ " Ezra had completed his sentence.

"Commander Bridger, we are waiting for your answer."

Ezra gazed at Nirasu, then Thrawn, and finally Admiral Ar'alani. He began to speak slowly, his words building with firm resolution.

"I am sure that when worlds are not fighting with each other, the Jedi would do everything possible preserve peace," he began. 'But when war exists and nothing else can stop its destructive path, a Jedi cannot stand idly by and watch innocent people be harmed, or even killed. We also have an obligation to help others and restore balance in the Force."

The last word all but leapt out of Ezra's mouth.

"The Force," Nirasu murmured. "This enchantment power you poses. You also channel it through a sword composed of supernatural light, correct?"

"I wouldn't exactly call it 'enchantment'," he defended himself quickly. "And I left my lightsaber behind on Lothal."

Ezra caught a glance at Thrawn and recalled how the Chiss had commanded him to leave his sacred weapon behind and surrender himself to the Empire. Thrawn was now watching this interrogation unfold, his face a mask of blue stone and his fingertips laced together.

"You could easily forge a new one couldn't you?" argued another Chiss.

Nirasu added, "And if you do create mystical weapons, how do we know you will not us them to attack us?"

"That's not what I said," Ezra protested. "Why would I want to hurt the Chiss after you've let me join the junior fleet?"

"You nearly killed Mith'raw'nurodo," Nirasu remarked.

"I was trying to get his ship off Lothal! He was shooting on people in the streets!" Ezra nearly shouted. His voice bounced off the walls and through the room that had just become eerily silent.

His throat contracted up with frustration. Damnit, could he stop making things worse?

Ashray's voice flitted up, gentle and musical, for all to here. "Perhaps the Jedi should show us some of his other abilities." Everyone looked at her including Ezra. She continued, "I have witnessed those results in the Atrium."

"What do you mean?" Thrawn asked.

"Whatever he touches flourishes."

" _Kriff,"_ Ezra thought.

Dozens of red eyes were now fixated on Ezra so hard he was sure they'd scorch him if they had the opportunity.

"Would you clarify Syndic Ashray's words?" Ar'alani said.

He rubbed his sweaty palms on the tablecloth. "It's nothing, really. I've been tending some of the plants in the Atrium and they're doing well."

Nirasu's eyes narrowed into red slits. "Who gave you permission into that room?"

"I don't know," he confessed. "I found an access card delivered to my door with the entry codes several days ago. So I thought it would be all right if I went inside during the evening hours. Digging in the soil helps me concentrate while I'm listening to my lessons on audio chips."

"So you took the access card without knowing who it was from? Why didn't you investigate?"

Dumbstruck, Ezra's head jerked back to Thrawn. The damn Chiss didn't so much as smirk or reveal a muscle twitch to give himself away. He was observing Ezra with usual cool detachment. Karabast, had he stooped low enough to set the Jedi up?

Or was someone else the culprit? Ezra turned towards Ashray. She looked bewildered as he did. But was she playing along by using a façade of innocence?

"This is highly unconventional," said another female Chiss. "We do not permit newcomers into the Atrium so soon."

"Forgive me, but has Commander Bridger violated any of our laws in entering the Atrium with proper codes?" Thrawn inquired politely. "I see no potential harm in granting him this permission. It is the Atrium we speak of, not our weapons factories or power stations."

Ezra's impatience had been stretched thin as a piece of elastic. He was sure he would snap if they provoked him any longer.

Right. Screw politics.

He seized the fluted glass and promptly tossed his head back. Ezra forced the drink down in two long gulps and nearly sputtered from the impact. By the time his glass was back on the table, the waves of heat surging through his body had stirred up a wonderful confidence that loosened his tongue.

He pushed his palms on the table and rose up from his seat.

"Why don't we all go to the Atrium right now?" Ezra offered.

A-A-A

 _Csilla, the Atrium of a Thousand Stars_

Warm and exuberant with newfound energy, Ezra walked alongside the Chiss while rambling aloud.

"My master Kanan Jarrus told me that Jedi used their abilities in different ways. Some channeled them into healing powers to aid the sick and wounded. Others helped farmers to grow crops," he rattled on.

They were all intrigued, if not mystified, as Ezra strode up to the Atrium doors and punched in the proper codes. One of the silver doors opened with a crisp snapping sound, just enough for Ezra to open it widely. A'ralani gestured for him to lead and he stepped into the Atrium with everyone following after him.

At this point he didn't care. He had nothing to hide.

"Here we are," announced Ezra, coming to a halt on the stone path. He pointed to a clearing where a grove of omba-stalks rose up from the ground. The plants Ezra had worked on were a shade of darker green compared to all the rest. And they were a foot or two higher in size. But otherwise, the Chiss noticed nothing of the ordinary.

Nirasu asked, "Have you been using your Jedi powers on our foliage?"

Ezra shrugged. "All I've been doing is weeding and watering."

One Chiss drew closer and ran her finger down the stalk. "It does look healthy," she declared.

Ezra wanted to say that he had enjoyed the scent of dirt, letting his fingers slip through the damp moist soil after touching the smooth surfaces of computers and data files. The earth was indeed a living object full of microscopic beings and he had savored this fascinating connection to the Force, however mundane. But they'd probably accuse him of creating an army of plants and flowers to conquer Csilla.

The thought was so ridiculous that a laugh bubbled up inside Ezra and he almost chocked trying to suppress it. The Chiss didn't know how amusing they were by scrutinizing such a silly matter.

Nirasu murmured something to Thrawn and then the other Chiss while Ezra wiped his forehead with his wrist. The drink was starting to make him woozy and the solar heat of the Atrium deepened the sensations.

Ar'alani also took a moment to examine Ezra's handiwork. Then she turned to face everyone else. "I see nothing supernatural here. It is logical that the vegetation would improve with attentive hands." Her tone was free of accusation, a balm on Ezra's rattled nerves.

It was even more pleasant when Ashray spoke up again.

"Admiral A'ralani and Ruling members, may I have your permission to allow Commander Bridger to escort me back to my chambers?"

"You are permitted," said one of them.

She curtseyed to them. Ezra followed with a bow, doing his best to hide his relief.

"Thank you, Admiral A'ralani. Thank you, members of the Fourth Ruling family, for the privilege of an evening with you all."

He lifted his blue eyes to them and tried to keep his mouth steady. "It's been an enlightening evening."

A-A-A

The cool air in the hallways fanned Ezra's flushed cheeks. He nearly tripped over his own feet when they rounded a corner. Could one drink throw him this far off-balance?

He waited until they were a good distance from everyone else and then he started asking Ashray questions. "What was that all about?" he demanded. "Why'd you bring up my work in the Atrium in the first place?"

She blinked coolly at him. "Their questions appeared to make you uncomfortable. I intended to steer the accusations away by focusing on your other abilities."

Some of the blood receded from Ezra's face. "Well, thanks…I guess. But I still don't know who gave me access codes."

"It wasn't me," she insisted. "I don't have the authority to do so."

Ashray paused and then suggested, "You think it was Mith'raw'nurodo?" Ezra nodded. She said, "But why would he want to endanger your reputation?"

"Maybe my demise will help him get back into the fleet," said Ezra.

"How so?"

Ezra massaged his temples with his fingers. He was trying to think logically, to remind himself that Thrawn was a master strategist who placed people in circumstances that benefited him. Could it have been his intention to make Ezra fight for his place among the Chiss only to use him as a scapegoat in the end?

No, that couldn't have been it. But his mind wasn't able to pursue this riddle any further right now. He needed a splash of cold water to focus.

"As I said before, the Ascendency is conflicted on his future. That is why he was allowed to join the table only towards the end of the meal," Ashray explained. "It is a demonstration that he is not fully accepted into their circle just yet.

"And you can't join a full meal either until you're adopted into the Fourth family, right?" suggested Ezra. She nodded in agreement. "Then where do you usually eat?"

"I take my meals with other candidates or in my room."

He shook his head in disapproval. "It just seems wrong to me," Ezra confessed. "Where I come from, having dinner with your family is natural. You spend time with people you love and care about. We laugh and joke and have a good time. It shouldn't have to be a strict test of approval."

"Perhaps you will see differently after the Fourth family permits me to join them," she offered. "And someday we will both sit around their table as equals."

"Perhaps," he relented.

"I am sorry that you did not enjoy the meal. But I hope that the décor was to your liking."

"It was beautiful," Ezra said. "What do you call those yellow flowers?"

"Aurum blossoms. They are cherished for their practical uses. The petals can be dried for making tea while the stalks make an anti-inflammatory medicine."

"Wow." Ezra was impressed. "I hope I can show them to Sabine someday. She'll love to paint a mural of them."

Ashray's smile froze upon her lips. "Sabine. Is she the Mandalorian you spoke of before?" she asked in a cooler tone.

Ezra nodded. "She's a gifted artist. And you should see some of her explosive work! We had a lot of crazy adventures fighting the Empire together."

A cloud had crossed over Ashray's face. "Is she beautiful?" the Chiss demanded.

The question startled him. Ezra thought of the day when he was a fifteen-year-old street thief who had leapt up into the Ghost and into the faces of the crew. He remembered that impish teen who was smitten with Sabine the moment she removed her helmet.

"Yes," he said with a grin. Unaware of Ashray's scowl, Ezra went on. "She's also one of the bravest people I've—"

"—more beautiful than any other woman you've known?" Ashray interrupted harshly.

It was Ezra's turn to frown. Why should Ashray ask such a question?

Ashray's mouth was still turned downward. "I suppose your Mandalorian would be considered superior to others," she retorted dryly.

Ezra could taste the bitterness in her comment. "Hold on a second. Sabine's had her own fights to overcome. Her clan branded her a traitor and she chose to leave her family to keep them safe."

"How unfortunate," said Ashray. Her voice dripped with such disdain that it compelled Ezra to reach out and grip her shoulder with his hand. Ashray glanced downwards for a moment and then up at Ezra's angry face.

"There's no need to be rude to someone you haven't met," he persisted.

Ashray shrugged his hand off. "Perhaps you'd prefer Sabine's company to mine. Or is she your betrothed to defend?"

"What?! No way!" Ezra exclaimed. "We're not betrothed." Kriff, she was acting poisonous as a thunderwasp!

The young Jedi's brow scrunched up as he mentally went over their conversation. "Are you...jealous of Sabine?"

Ashray huffed. "As you said, I've never met her."

"Then why are you acting strange?"

"I'm not," she replied icily. "Why do you care?"

"I care because she's my best friend."

The Chiss' scowl halted. "Best friend?" she repeated.

"Yes. We've grown together over the last few years and I trust her with my life," Ezra all but snapped at her. "So I won't let anyone disrespect her."

"Oh." Astonishment briefly flickered over Ashray's face. Then her features relaxed and she sounded relieved. "My apologies, Commander Bridger. I meant no harm to you or your Mandalorian."

"She's not _my_ Mandalorian!" he blurted out. Ezra nearly smacked his forehead in disbelief. What was wrong with this woman?! One minute she was being civil to him, then looked ready to order the Chiss fleet to attack Mandalore, and suddenly everything was fine again! He had a lot of questions for Eli the next time they talked.

Finally, at long last, they arrived outside of Ashray's rooms.

"Well, here you are. Have a good night, "Ezra said stiffly.

He started off but hadn't gone more than four steps when Ashray spoke behind him. "A moment, Commander Bridger."

He whirled back on her. "Yes, Syndic Ashray?"

Ashray extended her hand to him, fingertips pointed downwards.

"You may kiss my hand," she offered primly.

Ezra starred at her hand and then her face. The alcohol in his bloodstream combined with the stressful evening flared up with indignation. He had put up with far more than he could usually tolerate in one night. Maybe it was the giddiness from the drink. Maybe it was Nirasu or just Ashray and her damn pride and words. But he wasn't going to grovel before the Chiss any longer.

Ezra strode back towards Ashray but instead of taking her outstretched hand, he gripped her by both shoulders. The young Jedi pulled her up against him and then tilting his head towards hers, pressed his lips to Ashray's mouth.

The ground rippled beneath Ezra's feet as a new song of mystery coursing through his bloodstream from the kiss, echoing in the dark blood pumping deep within Ashray's own veins. Her body struggled for a flash of a moment before stilling within his embrace. Loose strands of her hair brushed over his cheeks and his lungs drank in the scent that clung to her skin. Her bare shoulders were cool to the touch but her lips were wonderfully warm, almost feverish with heat.

It had been but a fraction of a second yet it was seared into Ezra's mind as he broke off the kiss and drew back from Ashray. Her red eyes were wide with bewilderment, her lips parted as a small sigh escaped them.

Then Ashray shook herself into awareness. Her eyes flashed at Ezra like firelight flickering across gems and she struck him on the face. Her palm grazing his cheek didn't hurt much but it did rattle his senses.

She cursed something in Chenuh and then strode into her room, slamming the door behind her.

Ezra stood outside her room, rubbing his face thoughtfully. Her blow barely smarted. But his lips still tingled from the energy of their kiss.

What a night. He was certain there would be consequences in the morning.

As soon as Ezra got to his own room, Genet leapt towards him and wound himself in and out between Ezra's ankles. The tooka sniffed the air, intrigued by the new smells coming off Master. Genet smelled food, flowers, and something else, a wild and raw scent that Master never emulated before.

Ezra bent down and picked up the tooka. "I hope you're not expecting a good night kiss either," he warned Genet.

The tooka happily licked him on the nose.

A-A-A

 _One day later:_

Eli didn't intend to burst out laughing when he heard about last night's fiasco but it was inevitable. "You're full of surprises, Ezra!"

"Stop talking," the teen groaned. He was sitting on the medical table in Mikh'al's lab with both wrists pressed to his forehead. "Ugh, it feels like an astromech is banging around inside my head."

"Step aside, Commander Vanto." Doctor Mikh'al appeared in an instant and all but pushed Eli away. He took Ezra's pulse, looked inside his mouth, and flashed a tiny sharp light into the Jedi's eyes. The last action caused Ezra to squint and scowl.

"Increased sensitivity to light and and dry mouth," said Mikh'al aloud. "Any other symptoms you've been experiencing?"

"I feel like the room is spinning."

Mikh'al slipped the ophthalmoscope back into his lapel. "Hangover," he concluded. "How many drinks did you have?"

"Just the one," Ezra muttered. "And that's one too many for me."

"It was his first time having tozar wine," Eli told the doctor.

Mikh'al frowned briefly. "Tozar takes time getting used to. But you're not in any danger. I'll inform your instructors to grant you two rotations of absence just to be sure. In the meantime, you must drink plenty of water and get enough sleep."

"Thanks, doctor. But is there anything else to make this headache go away?"

"I'll prepare an oral remedy for you now." Mikh'al headed into the adjacent room where his laboratory was kept.

Alone again, Eli leaned against the wall and casually folded his arms across his chest. "So...Ashray," he said at last.

"I don't understand her, Eli," the young Jedi confided. "One minute she acts like she wants to be my friend and the next she treats me like dirt."

"Ashray's probably just as confused as you are. She isn't considered a member of the Fourth Ruling family right now but has to behave as though she is," explained Eli. "Meanwhile, she meets a Jedi of lore who doesn't care about her status. I'll bet she wants to get to know you better while toeing the line of what the family permits her to do."

"So, what you're saying is she's got a lot of contradictions," suggested Ezra. Eli nodded, causing Ezra to moan. "Why does this have to be so complicated?"

"Women are complicated. They're some of the greatest mysteries of the galaxy."

"I'll bet you never had this problem in the Imperial navy, did you?"

Eli shrugged nonchalantly. "Not in the way you think I did. When I was stuck being an ensign for years, women of society barely spoke two words to me. By the time I finally got to be a lieutenant commander their flattery was worthless."

Seeing Ezra's forlorn expression, he went on. "No worries. They weren't my kind of people anyway. But about Ashray getting mad about this Mandalorian…"

"Yeah. What was that all about?"

"Okay, here's one galactic secret I'm going to share with you Ezra: girls compete for your attention," he stated. "When you're with a girl, make her feel like she is one of the most beautiful beings in the universe. Focus on her, not other women. I'm sure your Mandalorian is a good friend but when you're with Ashray, she doesn't want to hear you praising another girl to the sky. Makes sense?"

Ezra rubbed the nape of his neck. "I think so."

"Let me show you." Eli tossed a hand through the air and pretended to converse with an invisible person. "Oh, you mean Lady So-and-So? I suppose she's tolerable to look at. But I hardly notice her," he drawled in a bored voice.

Eli switched to a warmer voice and starred at the open air as though looking into a woman's eyes. "But enough about her. Let's talk about us. When I am with you, it's wonderful as if I'm basking in the light of a radiant star."

Ezra's mouth fell open with awe. "That's incredible."

"That's Hezkiah's Holonet Starry-eyed Tips," Eli told him. "I've had to listen to every single one of his 200 recordings while on the Chiamera. When you're all better, I'll share the rest of my family's campfire stories too."

"Can't wait to hear them," said Ezra. Eli gave him an affirmative clap on the back and left the medical bay. Mikh'al returned from his laboratory carrying a beaker of something red and fizzy for Ezra.

"Here," he instructed the Jedi. Ezra took the glass and swallowed a mouthful.

"Yech!" he gagged. "It's disgusting."

"It will restore lost fluids and nutrients. Now drink it all," Mikh'al commanded him. Beneath the Chiss doctor's scrutinizing eyes, Ezra complied by tipping his head back and finishing the contents of the beaker. Mikh'al rewarded him with a glass of water to chase away the bitter aftertaste.

"Before you go, I have something else for you."

"A shot?"

"No." Mikh'al bent over and pulled out something from a lower shelf. "This I found in our texted archives."

He handed Ezra a heavy book bound in black leather and stamped with silver spirals. Two silk ribbons trailed down the front of the book. Ezra thumbed through the pages, admiring the exquisitely-painted illustrations of rocks, crystals, and gems.

"Kyler mentioned that you had an interest in geology from your previous expedition," explained the doctor. "I thought this could help you with research. Or if there is a particular item you are looking for, perhaps our science department can help you locate it."

Ezra looked from the pages up to the young Chiss man. Mikh'al had shown no-nonsense mannerisms since the first time they met and treated Ezra with the same formality as all of his patients. Yet this gesture deeply touched him.

"Thank you, Mikh'al. This is thoughtful of you."

Mikh'al attempted to brush off the gratitude with a shrug. "It's logical. The Ascendancy has invested in your career here so I see it beneficial to assist you."

His blue eyes widened with surprise. "What about your own career, Doctor Mikh'al?"

Mikh'al's mouth twitched. "What about it?"

"I don't mean to pry. It's just…I know you're smart and talented but you're also a junior medical officer. You're obligated to stay here on Csilla, aren't you? I was told the only time you left was when a rescue team was quickly put together to find Thrawn and myself."

The Chiss hastily busied himself with arranging some instruments on his table. "True, other senior physicians were preoccupied with the fleet and I was able to come on such short notice. But I do not understand why you take an interest in my future."

"Like I said, you're good at what you do. I'm curious to know if this is where you want to stay or if there's something else you see in your future."

Mikh'al turned back to face him, a polishing cloth in one hand and a syringe in the other. "If you must know, my ambition is to join the fleet as a fully-fledged medical officer and journey across the galaxy someday," he admitted at last.

Ezra's eyes lit up with interest. "Really?"

Mikh'al nodded. "With scientific knowledge constantly evolving, I want to know what other worlds are out there in the universe. Surely there can be better remedies growing on planets, safer and more effective surgeries to learn from other physicians." His red eyes were bright with awe. "Who knows what fascinating things I could learn among the endless stars?"

But then the light in his eyes died away and Mikh'al looked calm and detached again. "Yet that day may be long far off. With this Galactic war occurring in your part of the universe, our ships have been ordered not to journey too far beyond our regions."

"My friends are fighting to end this war once and for all," Ezra assured him. "And I'm sure someday you'll be able to fulfill your dream of seeing the rest of the galaxy. Trust me, there are many amazing things for you to learn."

"Really?" Mikh'al was intrigued. "Do you mean scientific discoveries? Or the heritage of the Jedi?"

"I don't see why they can't be the same. I guess if science is about understanding life, the Force is about understanding its purpose." Ezra held up the book before Mikh'al. "I'm looking for a rare type of crystal that emulates a special 'sound' for a person to find it. If I find one, you'll be the first to know."

The young Jedi's optimism rippled off him like a ray of first sunlight and Mikh'al realized he was not immune to it. "I look forward to it, Ezra Bridger."

"I'm glad." Ezra got to his feet, the book in hand. "And I also want to thank you for saving my life on board the Saffur. I would have died on that planet without your help."

"Yes, I know."

Ezra smiled and shook his head. Mikh'al, always the practical one in the end.

"Now I insist that you go to bed," he announced. "Another expedition is underway for next week that will go into the catacombs within the Gyron mountain ranges. Your presence there is mandatory so you must be in peak shape."

"Ma'rabif is leading it, right?"

"Yes. With you as his co-captain," said Mikh'al. It was Ezra's turn to look surprised and Mikh'al's turn to smile. "He insisted that you assume some of the team's responsibilities. Perhaps this trip could end up with you elected as new captain."

"Or it could end up in a fight."

"That is a possible outcome. A sleeping draught could find its way into his canteen but we both know that would be immoral. Therefore, I can only prescribe common sense and composure when dealing with Ma'rabif."

"I'll follow your instructions, Doctor Mikh'al. And this time I'll make sure our equipment is tested thoroughly before we leave," Ezra promised with a grin.

"Thank you, Ezra. May your next trip be fortuitous and free of reptiles."

A-A-A

 _Weeks later:_

Commander Eli Vanto's schedule had to be divided effectively between his own duties in the senior fleet and other responsibilities. Time for leisure or recreational activities was limited but appreciated, such as the moments he wasn't instructing Ezra. For now Eli was content to tell him some of the myths that circulated around Lysatra.

They were in the dining hall for junior officers, sitting on opposite sides of the table. Ranu was there too. She was intrigued by Eli's tales of the supernatural and then confounded when Ezra smoothed out the exaggerations.

"I've never heard of a weapon called a 'kyber saber' before," admitted Ezra. "It would be pretty heavy if the entire blade was made up of one giant crystal."

"What would be the point of building a weapon that would be useless in combat?" demanded Ranu.

Eli shook his head. "Like I've said before, Wild Space life can get quiet or even dull at times. The stories probably grew bigger over centuries."

"But that doesn't mean a 'kyber saber' doesn't exist," Ezra suggested. "I've been told there's always a bit of truth in legends."

"Then maybe you can tell me where this next legend came from." Eli wiped his mouth with a napkin and began his tale.

"Thousands of years ago, the prince of a noble planet was approaching his eighteenth birthday. Instead of throwing him a lavish banquet as they had done for every year before, the king and queen chose to bring their son before the Mirror of Oceans."

"Stop," interrupted Ranu. "Where precisely can a 'Mirror of Oceans' exist? How can more than one ocean occupy the same space while containing massive quantities of water? Wouldn't it become damaged from salt erosion?"

Ezra struggled not to laugh from her questions. "I think Commander Vanto means the mirror is a metaphor," he said.

"A metaphor. Right." Eli went on. "The prince was dreading to see this Mirror, which was said to reveal one's own personality. Cruel and greedy people were consumed by their vices. Arrogant people fell victims to their pride. Even those who strove to do good found themselves bewildered by the mirror's strict judgement. So the prince spent three days and three nights in his room in silent mediation, preparing himself to face the mirror.

"When he did, the Mirror of Oceans asked the prince what he desired most of all. The prince gazed into his own reflection and saw the all the things he craved: prosperity, honor, power, and glory. But then he begged the mirror not to give him any of those gifts.

 _'Why not_?' the mirror bellowed to him.

 _'Because none of those gifts will make me a good leader for my people'_ , he continued. _"Great Mirror, if you must bestow me with something, let it be that which I need and not that which I want. I implore you to grant me a present that will humble me in my hour of pride and raise me up in my hour of melancholy. Something that will inspire me to become the best man I can become be during my brief lifetime as a mortal._ "

 _'You have spoken well, young prince'_ , said the mirror. " _Walk the length of my shadow three times."_

"Three again. Why always three?" Ranu begged.

"Metaphor," Eli reminded her. "So the prince walked up and down the length of the mirror three times and when he had completed the task, he watched his reflection in the mirror begin to move of its own accord. The hand reached out to him and behold, a human being of flesh and blood stepped out of the mirror and into the prince's world.

" _This is your companion, a being of life who is your brother in all but blood_ ," said the mirror. " _He will be your opposite and equal. He will sharpen your mind and challenge your wit. He will bring you comfort when you are cast down and he will remind you of your mortal shell when you become too proud. When you are bright as the sun, he will glow gently as the moon_.

"The friend shook the prince's hand and together they returned to his kingdom. His new ally was indeed what the prince needed and many times he sought his friend's advice on difficult matters.

"The prince soon became a king who led his people through difficult times of war and famine, then into peace and prosperity. He married and raised a family. Never once did his friend leave him, until the king rested upon his deathbed and thank his companion for his guidance. When the king finally passed away and his subjects wept, his friend walked back into the Other Realm and vanished into the Mirror of Oceans."

Eli concluded his story. The two junior officers were silent and spellbound before him.

That night Ezra collapsed into his bed and instantly fell into a deep sleep. Sometimes he dreamed he was back on his homeworld, riding a Loth-wolf through the tall green grass and listening to the wind whistle songs into his ears. Sometimes he was on the Ghost starring out into the endless realms of stars or meditating quietly on Yavin Four.

Sometimes the dreams took him back to Tatooine where he walked forever across the sandy dunes. Though the twin suns beat down upon his head, he didn't feel pain or thirst. He would continue his trek until he saw someone standing on the horizon starring up at the red-and-white burning suns.

It was not Maul or Master Kenobi; that must Ezra knew. Yet the stranger never turned around to face him. Ezra would call out to the stranger, try to run across the dunes, but he always woke up before the person fully turned his head around to face Ezra.

He would wake up and instantly forget the dream. It had been swept away as one grain of sand buried beneath millions of others in the dunes.

A-A-A

Genet knows her as "Ash". The other blue-skinned ones have a longer name for her but to Genet she is Ash because that is easy.

Ash wears something shiny on her forehead and dresses make swishing sounds wherever she walks. Her smell is unique, a combination of that which she is and that which she applies to her skin. It is not an unpleasant smell. It lets Genet know when she is near.

He knows when she opens her mouth she can make peculiar but nice sounds come out of it. But first she must eat a stick of wood halfway and only then does she make the sounds. They have no scent but they fascinate Genet. It is not like the sound of a ship's engine, a person talking, or the quietness of an empty room. It is something new to Genet's senses. Master calls it "Moo-zik."

Genet is allowed to join Master in the big garden sometimes. Once he goes in on his own because the door is open and there is Ash and her moo-zik. He walks up to her and sits on his back legs, listening to the sounds.

She stops making the pretty sounds but smiles at him. Ash reaches for his head and Genet's nose follows her hand until her fingertips land upon his brow. She strokes the fur between his ears and his spine nearly melts from her touch. It is oooh, so very nice! He is pleased with Ash.

Ash takes a box out of her pocket and offers something to Genet. He sniffs, licks it, and eats it up in one gulp. Fish! It is rich oily fish cut into strips and flavored with salt. It makes Genet's mouth water and when Ash tosses him another piece, he catches it in his mouth. She gives him four more pieces of delicious fish and smiles at him.

The next time he sees Ash, Genet runs to her side and sits eagerly, waiting for more fish. She shows her empty hands to him but he licks one of them anyway.

Master arrives. His entire body tenses when he sees Ash and when he speaks his voice is strained. Ash also does not sound right. They are being strange. Not their usual selves. But their scents have changed as well. Genet wonders why Master does not take Ash as a mate when his scent clearly tells Genet that is what he wants.

Ash speaks and her voice is sad. Then there is the word "no". Genet's ears droop; he knows this is a hard word. Master also looks sad, but he goes up to Ash and extends his hand to hers. Genet knows she will not lick his hand but he is surprised when Ash puts her hand into Master's own. Their fingers close around each other and again, their scents have shifted.

Ash comes closer to Master and Genet watches her put her lips to his cheek. Genet saw his former master and mistress do this sometimes and knew it means they are happy and like each other very much. It is very sudden and Ash steps back and it makes Master's face turn red. But he smiles and rubs the back of his head. He liked it. Genet can tell.

They are no longer being strange. Their voices relax as do their bodies and they talk some more. They are standing very close to each other. Master finally picks up Genet, who has been feeling neglected all this time, and holds him to his chest. They take turns petting him until it is time to leave and then Genet is carried out of the garden by Master.

He already misses Ash. Master should mate with Ash. That would be good. Then they can both take care of Genet and feed him.

Fish is good. Almost as good as meat.

A-A-A

WEEKLY REPORT: TRANSMISSION 390 SIGMA

Sent from: Commander Eli Vanto, Honorary Officer of the Chiss Defense Fleet

Sent to: Admiral Ar'alani and Commodore Hikkaro

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

 _Item one – Our astronomer team has confirmed unstable lighting storms off the Northern Breach in space. Now we know what has been causing disruptions with our communications in the fourth sector. All hyperspace routes around the Breach have been discredited for now and anyone caught attempting to reach the border will be severely punished._

 _Item two – The Ascendancy has been informed of the ongoing Imperial demand in doonium. They are looking for a suitable alternative with similar properties to doonium. I have composed a list of two dozen abandoned mining moons for their approval._

 _Item three – Commander Bridger passed his self-defense and combat stimulation classes adequately. Request he be advanced to Level 8 circuit training._

END OF TRANSMISSION

A-A-A

 _Personal journal of Eli Vanto, hand-written_

Now that I've gotten my professional work out of the way, I can kick off my boots and relax in my room. I'm stretched out on my bed and looking out at the recent blizzard that's roaring outside my window. This city doesn't have as many skyscrapers as Coruscant to block out the view so I have a front-row seat for tonight's show. I feel like I'm inside a snowglobe.

Funny how something that looks harmless can freeze you to death.

But I'm comfortably warm in my private quarters and have no desire to go outside. I've also got a bottle of _tinn_ , a Chiss drink that tastes enough like beer for me not to miss Lysatra (too much).

As you may have guessed, I left a lot out of my log because I didn't want Admiral Ar'alani misinterpreting my words. Writing them down for myself helps me think it out so that I won't open my mouth and stay something stupid.

Thrawn's "Jedi project" has been going on for almost half a year. Ezra's progress has been a gradual but steady journey uphill, which is fine with me but I have a hunch some Chiss are still disappointed with him. They've heard the stories and must have expected Ezra to move mountains instead of trekking inside them.

I honestly don't want to believe Ezra did all the things that Thrawn finally told me he did by _summoning space monsters that obliterated star destroyers_ because it scares the life out of me to think he's got that power still lying dormant inside of him.

"Ezra Bridger is aware of his abilities but he refuses to use them on moral grounds," Thrawn reassured me. That still didn't stop my hair from standing on end.

But I have to wrap my head around this logic for two reasons.

First, Thrawn's no liar.

I may not know everything that goes on inside that brain of his but I've worked with him enough to know how it works (mostly). He'll use deception or misleading information to outwit an enemy but he won't straight out tell them he'll attack at night when he plans to attack at dawn. It isn't his nature.

So if he says Ezra took control of an Imperial ship then I must believe Thrawn. I also believe anyone he recruits was picked for a reason, myself included, so if he sees Commander Bridger as benefiting to the Chiss in the long-run then he must have an endgame planned. I wonder if it has anything to do with his philosophy after Outbound-* _next part crossed out and erased_ *

Second, Ezra's no idiot. Even with the vomiting tooka.

I know, sometimes he still looks like a puppy-eyed homesick kid. But not as often as he used to. In spite of challenges he hasn't tried to escape or throw in the towel. He keeps moving forward and I think he's determined to show the Chiss that he can prove himself, Jedi or not.

For example, the other week everyone was on break between sparring matches in the dojo. Most of them were enjoying cool drinks and talking among themselves. But Ezra sat there in a corner on his knees without moving for almost half an hour.

Why? Because he was _meditating_. If Ezra was in the Imperial Academy he'd be laughed out in an hour. But he explained to be afterwards that it improves his ability to fight by not fighting all the time and taking the space to "center yourself". His words, not mine.

Ma'rabif tried to make fun of him but when he attempted to sneak up on Ezra, the kid went from sitting to rolling aside before Ma'rabif could make a move. He was annoyed and demanded Ezra teach him this technique. Ezra agreed and now some of the other junior officers are meditating between lessons, sitting on mats with their eyes closed. (They only take a few minutes in case the teachers get suspicious.)

I told this to Thrawn and tried to put a positive spin on it that Ezra was catching up just fine with his peers. "Catching up and advancing ahead are two different things," he said. "He must exceed all standards if he is to be accepted by all Chiss."

"How do you think he'll do that?" I asked him. He said he didn't know yet but it would require the approval of the Ascendancy to make a "public demonstration".

No wonder I've got the feeling something bigger going on here. I can't put my finger on it but I wonder if Ezra Bridger is holding back, willingly or unwillingly, from unleashing his full potential. Is he afraid of it? Or is he waiting for the right time? And if he does have this great power again, will it change who he is? I hope not. But I'll just have to wait to find out. I've been misled about legends before—I won't make the same error twice.

So here we are, living on the edge of the universe. Training, preparing, learning, and waiting. Waiting for the lightning storms to obliterate our blockade. Waiting for the Vagaari army to launch a full-scale attack. Waiting for the Empire to arrive in this corner of the galaxy.

Nightfall's approaching and the watchtower lights have been switched on for incoming ships. My hand's starting to get a cramp so I'm going to stop here.

A-A-A

 _Personal journal of Eli Vanto, hand-written_

Things just got a little more interesting.

Ezra now comes on my "milk runs" not because he's lonely but because he's interested in meeting other people and finding out what's going on in the rest of the galaxy. This last time "Kay" assisted "Calcifur" in getting better generators and then Ezra was off on a personal mission to find a power cell.

He didn't tell me what it was for but he insisted on a specific model usually designed for droids and spent nearly two hours rummaging through the station. I could smell the greed coming off one seller who tried to convince Ezra that he sold the best power cells, but only at six in a pack.

I was ready to get him to drive down the price when we got distracted by a ragtag auction going on. They had already sold off a genuine Mark-10 speeder and a pair of exotic birds when Ezra nearly dragged me towards it to see what was being offered next. The smuggler in charge held up what looked like an antique glow-wand to me but Ezra looked ecstatic.

He told me it was a lightsaber.

Ezra begged me to pool all our money together but the bid was too high and it went to a bounty hunter in the back. I had never seen him this relentless as he chased her down. She would've brushed him off like a fly but he nagged so hard she relented at last to let him hold it.

I thought it might cheer Ezra up but then he shouted loud and clear, "This isn't a real lightsaber!"

The smuggler was pissed and told him to shut up. But Ezra kept insisted it was missing the proper crystal in the center so the bounty hunter opened it up to see. Sure enough, there was just a solar disk inside: the cheap kind used in portable lamps.

"You take me for a fool!?" the bounty hunter screamed. She threw herself on top of the smuggler and it all broke out into fisticuffs, half the people punching each other's guts out and the other half egging them on. I managed to pull Ezra out of the fight before his teeth got knocked out and we dashed towards our ship. I managed to throw down some credits and grab a box of power cells on the way out.

Once airborne I told him how sorry I was that it wasn't a genuine lightsaber but he didn't seem too upset. I'd like to think the new power cells had something to do with it.

Then Ezra showed me what else he had found on the station in a scavenger's shop. Wrapped inside a blue cloth were three small statues about the size of our palms. They were carved out of black stone and the edges were rounded, so I'm guessing they're pretty old.

"Mortis gods," Ezra told me. He looked very serious as he spoke. He tried to explain to me that they were ancient beings that were avatars of the Force but I zoned out a bit at this point. Fairy tales are one thing but this was too cosmic for my understanding.

All I could admit was that one of them looked like the shape of a woman and the other two like men. Ezra told me they were the Son, Daughter, and Father, all responsible for harmony in the galaxy emulated through light, darkness, and balance. I felt my stomach doing flips but tried to keep my cool when I asked if he had ever encountered them. I was relieved when he told me no, but that he had seen a mosaic of them once.

Ezra respectfully set them up on the dashboard and there they stayed for the rest of the trip home. I felt they were watching us the entire time.

A-A-A

Ezra sat on the floor of his room in front of a small table. A late afternoon sun hung in the purple sky outside his window while Genet dozed on his bed. Now was the ideal time for him to begin.

He had draped a clean sheet over the table before arranging the statues of the Mortis gods on top. Next to it was a tiny potted fern he had been given for his work in the Atrium. Ezra added two candles on either side of the table and lit the wicks. He watched the light from the candles flickering off the shiny surfaces of the Mortis gods.

Now for the final touch. Ezra reached into his pocket and took out a chunk of amethyst-colored stone. He had found it during the junior fleet's mountain expedition and taken it back with him. The stone's craggy shape reminded him of the elusive Force-wielder Bendu who had helped him and Kanan on Atallon. Ezra set the stone in front of the Father figure and took a moment to admire his handiwork. Then he set down the box of collected metal pieces before the makeshift alter.

Ezra folded his legs beneath him, placed his hands upon his kneecaps, and closed his eyes. He saw only darkness behind his lids and allowed his mind to unwind, to let itself become clear of all other thoughts. His conscience slowly slipped away, drifting away from Csilla's snow-capped regions and into the depth of space.

Ezra's breathing began to grow deeper and slower. He felt the shape of his lungs alter as he drew air into his body and then let it out between his lips. In and out. Back and forth.

Light and dark. Balance. The Force.

He imagined himself standing in a field on Lothal. The grass brushed against his legs and smelled sweetly of springtime. Ezra knelt down onto the ground and pressed his palms to the earth, sensing every tiny living thing growing around him. A green daisy was pushing up from the ground and it bent towards him in the wind. People said if you lay down on the grass and a green daisy "kissed" your nose, it was a sign of good luck.

As he floated within the cool green bubble of serenity, Ezra could hear the _click-click_ -clicking sounds of metal pieces moving against each other. He knew the items he had been collecting were no longer resting in their box but hovering before his closed eyes. He could feel them defying gravity, being held in space by his will of the Force.

A sudden thrill swelled up in Ezra, causing the pieces to still. No, he must control himself. Not get too excited. He focused again on Lothal's grass and the other green daisies rising out of the ground. The metal pieces responded to his thoughts, floating back into the air in endless circles. One piece, a metallic casing, slowly eased itself into an electric bolt.

Yes, yes. This was good. " _Show me what I need to do_ ," Ezra thought.

Something was forming in his thoughts, a piece of information to complete the picture. Ezra kept half of his mind focused on Lothal while the other half floated to the surface of his conscience, reaching out towards the image. Its cloudy edges were become sharper, more focused as he drew towards them.

It narrowed within Ezra's grasp when Genet's sharp bark shattered into his thoughts.

Ezra's eyes snapped opened to see the tooka had pounced upon the table, knocking over the candles and Mortis statues.

"What?! No!" he cried out. His concentration broke apart and Ezra saw the metal pieces clatter to the ground. He rushed forward to put out the candles before the cloth caught fire. Exhausted from his Force connection, Ezra collapsed forward on all fours. "I was close," he groaned aloud. "I was so close!"

He forced himself back up and saw the messy table with candle grease spreading everywhere. Genet was on top, yapping and running in a circle. Raged burned through Ezra. He snatched one of his boots and hurled it towards Genet.

"Stupid tooka!" he shouted. Genet dodged out of the way and rushed under the bed like a streak of gray lightning. The boot made a loud clacking sound when it hit the wall and then it fell to the floor, leaving a noticeable but harmless stain on the wall.

The anger bled out of Ezra as quickly as it had come in. He knew Genet hadn't intended to distract him, and he had gotten much further than he had anticipated in a long time. But it was still so difficult at times, struggling to make sense of his place here and straining to become one with the Force again.

Ezra crawled on hands and knees towards his bed. "Genet?" he asked softly, bending underneath. A pair of eyes glinted out from the darkness.

It took nearly half an hour to coax Genet out from under the bed. When the tooka finally emerged, Ezra scooped him up in his arms and held him tightly to his chest. He could feel Genet's small body still quivering all over.

"I'm sorry Genet," he apologized. "I didn't meant to scare you."

Genet licked Ezra's face in a gesture of goodwill. The Jedi's heart pulsated with a rush of emotions and he buried his face in the tooka's warm fur.

A-A-A

 _Four rotations later:_

"Where do you come from and what is your occupation?" Kyler asked.

Ezra was standing on his head with his feet in the air. He was attempting to use his body, "activate the core" as the Chiss described it, to remain upside down in the same position for as long as he could. To make it more challenging, Kyler was firmly pressing down on Ezra's feet.

To make it more challenging he was being quizzed on Chenuh.

Ezra could feel the blood rushing into his head as he spoke their words. " _Eshua'n tuu Chandrilla eth..."_ He paused. _"Vivol'nah koram."_

Ranu snickered from her chair. She watched Kyler apply even further pressure into Ezra's heels.

"What? I said I'm a fisherman from Chandrilla!" His legs wobbled as he spoke.

"You said, ' _I'm a boat_ '," Ranu corrected him. "It's ' _koh-rahm_ ' for 'fisherman'. Not _koram_. Do you hear the different pronunciation?"

"I, I think—woah!" Ezra lost his hold and felt his body flip forward. Face, torso, and legs would have come painfully crashing down. Mercifully, he steadied his body enough to land on the carpeted floor and the pillow Kyler had set down ahead of time cushioned Ezra's head.

He flipped himself right-side up and rubbed his forehead. "Maybe I shouldn't try to multitask."

"I agree. Neither of us want you to get a cracked head," said Kyler. "Let's take a break before trying something different."

"Good idea. How about a game?" offered Ezra.

"A game?" Ranu tried to hide her dissapointment. Games were for children. Nevertheless, she watched Ezra take out a wooden hexagonal-shaped board from his satchel and listened further while he showed her the small round wooden disks painted in different colors.

"This isn't just any game. My friend Ahsoka used to play crokin with her friends when the Empire took over the farming moon she was living on. The farmers couldn't make plans in secret case they were discovered and arrested by stormtroopers. So they'd use crokin as an excuse whenever they got together at the local cantina to make plans."

Kyler was interested. "So playing crokin detoured the Empire from interfering with them?"

Ezra nodded. "It's good for practicing strategy too."

Ranu starred greedily at the board. "How so?"

Ezra set up the board and arranged the mounds of colored disks around pegs. "There's two objects of the game: one is to get your discs to the other side of the board. The other is to knock out as many of your opponents' discs from the board." He used a wooden prong to flick a yellow disc into the air. It knocked into a blue disc that toppled off the board.

"So it's a combination of luck and skill," concluded Kyler.

"Yes. And the stakes get higher too. Ahsoka taught me that even if pieces are removed from the board, that doesn't mean they're officially out of the game or harmless. They can still pose a threat to you."

"How?"

"Like this." He stacked four yellow discs in one corner of the board. "If you knock out four of your enemy's discs, they reenter the board as a 'tower'. In other words, they're regrouping themselves into something stronger." He slid the stacked discs next to the blue one. "A tower is harder to knock off the board and can block you from moving ahead."

Ranu was ecstatic now. "I'll go first," she announced.

Within the hour she had beaten both of them twice. Kyler won the third round and Ezra won the fourth. "You shouldn't hold back," Ranu chided him.

"Who said I was holding back? You're just naturally good at this game," he said.

"I know you can do better," Ranu insisted, stacking up her pieces again. "Every time we've gone into the mountains with you we've come back with more than enough findings and nobody's gotten hurt."

"That's because everyone works well together in a team."

"And because you're a good leader who pays attention to the safety of everyone around you," Kyler said. "It's those qualities that the fleet takes notice of."

"Speaking of the fleet, what's Outbound Flight?" Ezra asked. Ranu's discs clattered loudly back onto the crokin board and Kyler frowned. He looked at one Chiss and then the other. "What's wrong?"

Ranu and Kyler glanced at each other. Ezra's eyes shifted away. "I'm sorry. I didn't know it was taboo. I just thought it was something Eli had mentioned before."

"Outbound Flight is a classified military report," Kyler said at last.

"Oh." Ezra looked disappointed.

"But Ranu is an adequate slicer," Kyler went on.

"Me?" she pointed to her chest.

"You're even better at computer programming then you are at crokin. And besides, I've wanted to know about Outbound Flight for a while. I know you have too, Ranu."

"Now's a good time?" Ezra asked him. "Aren't you worried about being caught?"

"Not if we're all willing to share the blame," Kyler admitted. "Even if someone does find out, Ranu can write it up as a security leak that she located during her programming lesson."

"I'm ready to try if you two are," Ranu admitted. She slid out of her chair and rummaged around in her desk until Ranu found what she was looking for. She held up an old plastoid data-cube for Ezra and Kyler to see. "Our data computers are constantly running scans to detect state-of-the-art hackers. This programmer is so old that with the proper codes it can slip by security."

"Usually?"

"It hasn't failed me yet," she assured him. Her friends helped Ranu hook the wires coming out of the data-cube into her main computer and watched her click on a few keys. Because the data-cube was an older model, it took its time loading itself into the central information hub on Csilla.

Ezra knew he was taking another big risk but his burning curiosity to find out what Eli had been shunning was irresistible. The presence of his new friends gave him the confidence to pursue this riddle.

Finally, after a long time waiting, a hologram appeared on top of the computer. "Woah," Ezra said. "I've never see a ship like this before."

It was certainly an unusual one. Ezra could see six enormous oblong cruisers with powerful rockets on one end and narrowing to a single point on the other. Bubble-shaped windows lined the tops of each cruiser. All six cruisers were shaped in a circle and at the center of them was a huge cylinder-shaped space station.

"Ezra, do you know what they are?" asked Ranu.

"I think so. Can you magnify it?"

Ranu keyed in some codes and the ship grew larger. She worked another minute to remove the grittiness from the hologram. Ezra squinted as he studied the ship.

"They're called Dreadnaughts," he said at last. "They're gigantic, probably as big as Imperial star destroyers."

"How many people could fit on a ship like this?"

"Thousands, I'm sure. Maybe up to fifty thousand passengers by the look of it. See these beams linking the Dreadnaughts together?" Ezra pointed to a matrix of metal frames. "Those look like turbo-lifts. I'll bet it's so big you need the lift to travel from any Dreadnaught to the core."

"Looks like this was also heavily-armed," Kyler said. He pointed to another section where ion cannons were secured into the hull of four Dreadnaughts.

"But it doesn't look like any Chiss ship in our fleet. So what's it doing here?" Ranu wanted to know.

Ezra's eyes scanned over the Basic script at the bottom of the hologram. "It looks like…some kind of space expedition." His mouth fell open. "It's from the Republic!"

"Are you sure?"

"Definitely. Judging by these dates, my master was still a youngling when Outbound Flight was launched. This was before the Empire, even before the Clone Wars." Ezra read the rest of the scrolling words. "Yes, yes. It was a mission approved by the Jedi and the Senate. They wanted to explore the Unknown Regions and establish colonies beyond the Outer Rim."

He looked at them and added, "I hope it was a peaceful mission. But those weapons on board…"

"Probably for self-defense," Ranu suggested.

Kyler was dumbstruck. "So humans have reached Chiss space before," he murmured. "I've heard of a handful over the years like you, Commander Vanto, or a handful of traders. But never so many as fifty thousand."

"There's a reason for that," Ezra murmured. His voice fell as he looked up from the script. "Outbound Flight never made it to Csilla."

"What?!" exclaimed Ranu. "What happened?"

"I don't know. The rest is in Chenuh."

"Let me see." She nearly pushed Ezra aside out of excitement and took over reading the rest of the report. Ranu gasped softly.

"Outbound Flight was considered a scientific and military disaster. When the ship arrived close to a Chiss armada in space, conflict broke out between the ships. Vagaari slavers also launched an attack at the same time. Outbound Flight's weapons were destroyed along with nearly everyone on board. With the engines further damaged, it fell out of orbit and crashed into a nearby moon."

She lifted her head up. "No survivors."

Kyler had a fist pressed to his chin. "That explains why the Ascendency only wants senior officers to know. Information like this would jeopardize the entire fleet to know an armed ship along with Jedi and other human beings tried to colonize in Chiss space. They'd probably launch a preemptive attack or break out into arguments over how to proceed."

"And that's not something the fleet would approve of, would it?" asked Ezra. Kyler shook his head.

Ezra fell back in his chair and ran a hand over his hair. "I still can't believe it. Humans and Chiss made full-scale contact before. But I'll bet Outbound Flight's failure kept the Old Republic from trying to explore and learn about new people again."

Kyler asked him, "What about the Clone Wars?"

"That came several years later. The Republic's army must have been so busy fighting the local Separatists that they couldn't afford any long-range space explorations. As soon as that war ended, the Empire took its place."

He leaned closer to gaze up at the hologram. "Fifty thousand people," he murmured softly. It was unfathomable. "No survivors?" he repeated. "Any Chiss casualties?"

Ranu scrolled to the last part of text at the bottom of the report. A fresh wave of shock swept across her face and she couldn't speak for several moments. When she finally managed to speak again, Ezra knew they had stumbled across something crucial.

"There was one death reported in the Chiss Defense Fleet: Syndic Mitth'ras'safis. He boarded Outbound Flight just before the crash."

"Who's Mitth'ras'safis?" Ezra asked.

He watched Ranu exchange a silent understanding with Kyler, as though to confirm that they both were willing to share the secret with a Jedi.

"He was the elder brother of Mith'raw'nuruodo."

A-A-A

Sleep eluded Ezra that night. He lay stretched out on his bed starring at the ceiling with one hand slipped under his head for support. Genet was already curled up against Ezra and purring contently in his sleep. Ezra stroked the tooka's head with his other arm while struggling with all the newfound information he had recently unearthed.

Ahsoka once told him that only a Sith deals in absolutes. The weak perished, the strong ruled all. There was no room for doubt, conflict, or questioning the fate of the Force. You ruled by will alone—and alone was better than relying on the disappointment of others.

Being a Light-Sider of the Force was a greater challenge. You had to look at different perspectives and angles, trying to comprehend the Force through other people instead of threatening them with the blade of a lightsaber. It took patience not to make swift judgement on others and rather, contemplate the proper path to take.

Pieces of the past were forming a story in Ezra's mind, enlightening him about Thrawn's elusive past. He had revealed to Ezra that his allegiance to the Chiss preceded his loyalty to the Empire. Yet he had flawlessly served Palpatine and his troopers. Ezra wondered what had motivated to drive Thrawn up through the Imperial ranks.

He thought it was pride, then considered it was loyalty to his people. But now a third card had been placed upon the table for Ezra to see.

Thrawn had had a _family_. Ashray had told him that Thrawn had once been a prodigy of the Eight Ruling Family; an ideal candidate who found his way into the good graces of a generous aristocratic family. But to know that his own brother had died in a conflict that should not have concerned the Chiss was a startling revelation.

Ezra once asked Ahsoka how people could have eagerly accepted the Empire. She explained to him how worlds were relieved to hear Palpatine would shoulder their burdens after they had become exhausted from the Clone Wars and disgusted with the Senate's growing corruption and inefficiency. Perhaps some of these exploitations had existed on Outbound Flight, unknowing to the Jedi traveling on board.

Revenge was a powerful weapon and it could drive a person to obtain victory at all costs. Did Thrawn blame the Republic for the disaster of Outbound Flight? Had the loss of his family member motivated him to pour his allegiance into the Empire?

One last thought followed Ezra's thoughts into the night as he finally drifted off into sleep.

 _"Does he hate the Jedi for causing the death of his brother?"_

A-A-A

Author's notes: If you don't know what the Kyber Saber is then you have to watch "The Freemaker Adventures". Events in this chapter were inspired from the Legends novel "Outbound Flight" by Timothy Zahn. Crokin was used in the "Ahsoka" novel by E.K. Johnston


	5. Chapter 5

Ezra didn't have the chance to bring up Outbound Flight again nor did he wish to do so. Ranu had scrubbed her computer clean and the three of them made a pact agreeing that would never speak of it again. To do so would send them to the bottom rankings of the junior fleet if not be immediately expelled. Yet Kyler and Ranu would still remain among the Chiss and serve out their punishments accordingly before other duties would be assigned to them.

But for Ezra, the unknowing future beyond Csilla's frosty borders was a risk he dared not take. So he wisely kept his lips sealed regarding the mysterious matter.

If he caught a fleeting glance at Thrawn in the oncoming weeks Ezra quickly averted his eyes away. But if Thrawn suspected something disturbed the young Jedi, he did not speak of it.

Time slipped by like beads on a chain, one month folding into another. Flight classes went from local terrain to the space above Csilla. Weapons changed in combat practice. Another trip to the smuggling space station with Eli; another mechanical purchase that could be sawed down into a potential inert power insulator. Some nights Ezra sat at his dormitory desk and tried to fit the different pieces into the hollow torches. He imagined how the finished product would look when the kyber's energy channeled itself safely through the larger chambers without overheating the metal's surface.

The outcome still appeared crude to him. He learned not to get frustrated with the lack of results and rather, savored the moments when his mind wandered. He would close his eyes and let his fingers turn the pieces over and around in rotations. Then he'd put them back in the box and slid it beneath his bed.

Another trial of patience came from reading the book Mikh'al had found. At a first glance Ezra had quickly thumbed thought it to see if kyber crystals went by another name. Then he went over it again, this time slowly turning the pages and taking the time to read the detailed descriptions of the stones and admire the colorful pictures.

Some days he read in the Atrium. There was a small grove tucked away in a corner of the hothouse that had become Ezra's favorite place because the ground was infused with lush green grass. It was blissful to stretch out upon his stomach and be comfortably cushioned with the crisp sweet scent of grass while beams of light streamed in through the windowpanes.

A small rock propped up the book towards Ezra's face while Genet was resting between his shoulderblades. Having learned to behave in the Atrium (and perhaps the wiser a tooka for not eating any more strange plants) Genet had made himself comfortable on the Jedi's back and was trilling pleasantly.

" _Bakorite is a semi-precious stone based on the mylora mineral,"_ Ezra read from the book. " _It is best known by its deep red color but other shades such as pale green and bright yellow have been found. Ancient miners called it 'shizhu ki ramu' which translates as 'heat of the sun' for its remarkable crimson hue. When tempered with intensely high temperatures, Bakorite can maintain heat for hours. Meteorites of Bakorite have been found on various planets still hot from their space-bound descent."_

This was interesting and he read on. _"Laboratory Bakorite must only be treated with dry heat. Unnatural moisture will invade the stone and cause cracks on the surface. Bakorite has been a valuable asset for holding beams together in desert-located homes, carved into baking dishes, and as a long-lasting ornament in ritual ceremonies."_

"Ritual ceremonies," Ezra said aloud. "Hmm. I wonder if the Jedi used Bakorite for anything."

His comm-link chirped in his pocket and Ezra groaned. He was too comfortable to want to stop now. Reluctantly, he pulled out the comm-link and turned it on. Admiral Ar'alani's firm voice came through the tiny speaker.

" _All members of the circuit eight junior fleet are to report to the central training room in on hour,"_ she announced. _"Your presence is mandatory. There will be no excuses for tardiness and anyone who fails to appear will automatically be demoted in the fleet."_

The warning in her words shook Ezra to attention at once. He arched his back so that Genet slid harmlessly off onto the ground and then got to his feet. "C'mon, Genet. We'd better hurry before the Admiral takes attendance."

The tooka followed his master through the winding paths of the Atrium. Ezra only stopped when he heard the silky strands of music to his left. He turned and detoured long enough to see Ashray was practicing again. She drew the flute out from between her lips and looked at Ezra.

"Was I disturbing you?" she asked.

"Not at all," he assured her.

Ashray smiled and gestured to the bench beside her. "Would you like to hear some more?"

"Another time. Admiral Ar'alani's just summoned everyone in my class and I'm not sure why."

"Perhaps an additional lesson for the junior fleet?" suggested Ashray.

"Maybe," Ezra said. "But I've got a feeling if she didn't want to tell us right away, it must be important."

Ashray set aside her flute and walked up to Ezra. Her red eyes scanned his face. "You seem concerned," she said at last.

Ezra rubbed his left shoulder. "The admiral usually doesn't make changes like this."

Ashray rested a dainty hand upon his arm. "But if she has summoned everyone in your class then it means you have not been singled out for any task. And if you have advanced this well in the fleet, surely you have the skills to face whatever the admiral has prepared."

The assurance of Ashray's words and the gentleness in her voice was as soothing to Ezra as her music. Suddenly, he did not want to go into the training room and do the admiral's bidding. He wanted to stay in this warm green room of life with a loyal tooka at his heels and a pretty girl by his side.

But his desires would have to be delayed. Ezra took Ashray's hand into his own and allowed his fingers to close securely over hers. He held her hand a moment longer than he had expected to before letting go. Already the lack of contact was a loss such as a warm sun that had just slipped behind a heavy gray cloud.

Nevertheless, Ashray nodded thoughtfully to him as she gestured to the doors of the Atrium. "Good fortunes to you, Commander Bridger."

"Thank you, Ashray."

A-A-A

One hour later, Ezra stood in line beside the nine other young adult Chiss in his team. Everyone stood rigid in his or her place with their hands clasped tightly by their sides. No one dared to slouch or smirk when Admiral Ar'alani walked into the room.

But Ezra's mouth nearly fell open when he saw she was followed by several members of the Ascendency, four Chiss guards, and finally….Thrawn. They all stood at one end of the room while Ar'alani approached the junior officers.

"As you all know, we have been testing your abilities over the last several weeks to determine who is prepared to advance to the senior fleet," said Ar'alani. "Today you will face a new challenge."

She gestured for Thrawn to step forward. Ezra's heart was vibrating faster as his adversary drew closer.

"Thank you, Admiral Ar'alani," he said politely. Thrawn nodded to his superior officer and then addressed the junior officers. "I am here to give a demonstration so that you may show the Ascendency what you have learned. You will prove your strength and stamina by facing me in combat."

Oh no no no. This was bad. Very bad. Pairing up with each other was one thing but fighting Thrawn would be an entirely different trial. Had Thrawn deliberately arranged all of this as part of some master scheme?

Thrawn was already removing his jacket to reveal a sleeveless black shirt. Even through the fabric one could notice the broadness of his chest and how his arms and shoulders were hard and corded with muscles from years of exercise. It was the body of a master strategist; the body of a warrior who could endure storm and fire to achieve his ambitions.

Ezra's stomach muscles clenched up.

"Make no mistake: you will not be granted a second opportunity," Thrawn announced. He walked over to the weapons rack and removed a heavy wooden bo staff. "Defeat me and you automatically graduate. Be defeated and be disgraced."

He walked to the center of a training mat and gestured for the first officer to approach. Kyler walked down the line past his fellow officers and when he approached Ezra the young Jedi whispered, "Good luck."

"Thanks," Kyler murmured. If he had anxieties, Kyler managed to restrain them while he chose a fighting staff for himself and then took his place before Thrawn.

"Begin!" Admiral Ar'alani commanded.

Ezra was enraptured as his teammate traded blocks and blows with Thrawn. Kyler had been an attentive student and Ezra was proud to watch his friend maneuver his staff to collide with Thrawn's own, keeping it in view without blocking his range of vision. But his confidence in Kyler faltered when he missed one of Thrawn's jabs up in the air that left his chest open. The older Chiss drove the end of his staff into Kyler's ribcage, knocking him backwards several feet. Kyler swiftly grounded himself to regain composure but the stagger had cost him greatly. In the few seconds he attempted to reclaim lost ground Thrawn had already encircled him on the side and landed a final blow across Kyler's shoulderblades.

The Chiss hit the floor with a defeated grunt. Someone in the junior fleet gasped aloud.

Ezra starred at Kyler and then forced himself to tear his eyes away, not wanting to see a fellow officer shamed. Thrawn serenely motioned for the next person to proceed. When Ma'rabif took to the mat, he attempted a different tactic by aiming at Thrawn's ankles in an attempt to trip him up. The other Chiss met the challenge by leaping off his feet whenever he caught Ma'rabif's staff coming towards him. Ma'rabif had to duck down several times to avoid Thrawn's staff swinging into the back of his skull. In a moment of extraordinary timing, their staffs locked against each other. Ezra knew one could use his momentum to push his opponent's weapon away. Instead, Thrawn broke off the hold and swiftly struck the end of his staff against Ma'rabif's right hand and then his left.

Ma'rabif let out a shout when the skin of his knuckles split open. Ezra knew he was done for now; the blood would make his grip slippery. Ma'rabif had held on long enough but he foolishly changed forward, lunging at Thrawn's face with his staff. The Chiss rapidly stepped aside and then brought his staff down into Ma'rabif's ankles, causing him to stagger over his own feet and go crashing to the floor.

One by one, each member of the junior fleet faced Thrawn. Some went down faster than others but no one brought him down. Ranu looked nearly gray with apprehension when it was her turn and even a reassuring smile from Ezra didn't help. He had good reason to be worried about her; Ranu's strength was in computers and analytics while she had barely passed in physical combat.

She had been paired up with a male Chiss who was of the same height and built and together they were instructed to face Thrawn. Ezra gave them credit for using their duality to the best of their abilities: Ranu made efforts to distract Thrawn while the other Chiss went on the offense. He darted back between both of them, blocking one with his staff and wounding another in the shoulder within the blink of an eye.

The technique eerily reminded Ezra of Maul and his red dual-bladed lightsaber. Had Thrawn encountered the one-and-former Sith before?

He had little time to ponder on this when Ranu's staff locked with Thrawn's own. She was attempting to hold her ground but his greater weight was boring down upon her relentlessly until her knees buckled. Thrawn sensed her comrade over his shoulder and with a final shove, he used his full strength to shove Ranu to the ground before turning on the other Chiss. He was fortunate to last another five blows before he too was flat on the floor.

All this time the Ascendency members watched their junior officers fall without betraying their emotions Even Admiral Ar'alani was a statue of azure marble, her arms bound tightly across her uniform and her lips compressed together. Ezra was perplexed by their lack of response. Did they _want_ everyone to fail? What did they expect to accomplish by setting the officers up against an impossible adversary?

As fate, or the Force would have it, Ezra was the last person to stand against Thrawn. As he walked across the room and picked up a fresh staff, Ezra could sense everyone's' eyes upon him. He let a deep breath into his chest, filling his lungs with as much as air as possible before releasing it out in one long exhale through his mouth.

He turned around until he and Thrawn faced each other on the mat. The Chiss' eyes glinted keenly as Thrawn rotated his staff leisurely around his body. The battleground was his domain and he claimed every inch of it for himself. There was no need to hold back for a human being.

Ezra unlocked his jaw, bowed to his opponent, and then used his foot to kick the staff upwards into his hands. In the few moments when they took positions, he urged himself to repeat the mantra he had been instructed to follow for years.

 _"I am one with the Force and the Force is-"_

"Chah!"

Thrawn let out a battle cry as his rod rammed into Ezra's own. Ranu watched with alarm and Kyler cringed inwardly to see Thrawn rain constant blows upon the young Jedi. Ezra was frantically trying to block the staff that kept jabbing for his head, shoulders, chest, and ankles and every time his own staff barely slipped away to avoid getting his bones cracked.

Ar'alani remained silent.

Ezra made sure to keep his feet constantly moving, using agility to prevent his enemy from using his body against himself. He couldn't permit Thrawn to trip him up. He nimbly averted to the right when the bo staff came slicing towards and attempted to move back into position. Thrawn swung his staff horizontally through the air, driving it into Ezra's stomach. The Jedi coughed in pain as the air was knocked out of him. Another swipe banged into his jaw, causing Ezra to nearly bite his tongue in two.

Now that his feet were off-balance, Thrawn took the opportunity to entangle Ezra's feet in the staff. He flipped upward and the young Jedi went crashing to the ground. Ezra's chin banged against the floor and send shockwaves through his skull. Instantly he felt a heavy knee pressing into his spine, pinning him into place. Panic seized Ezra and he flayed his arms and legs madly in a futile effort to break free. But Thrawn continued to drive his full weight down upon him.

He couldn't bear to look at them. He was only relieved Eli and Ashray weren't there to witness Ezra's humiliation. Ezra's face burned with shame as he felt icy breath sweep over his right ear. Thrawn bent over and whispered something so low that only Ezra could hear the taunt in his voice.

"Whelp."

His staff came down and cracked against Ezra's backside. The physical pain was nothing compared to the surge of rage that tore out of Ezra's throat. " _No! Not like this_!" his mind screamed.

He was _not_ going to be beaten and disgraced like this! No Jedi would stand for it!

Ezra rammed his elbow backwards, driving it as hard as he could up into Thrawn's face. He had hoped to hit the Chiss squarely in the nose but his elbow collided with a harder surface and Ezra had the fortune to hear Thrawn let out a sound of frustration. It was just enough of a distraction for him to loosen his weight on Ezra, giving the young Jedi a split second to break out of harm's way and another moment to flip himself back on his feet.

In a heartbeat the tables had turned. Ezra's face was still burning from Thrawn's last blow but getting up again had rejuvenated his spirit. He watched the other Chiss also rising to his feet, rubbing his forehead where Ezra had jabbed him.

Ezra saw his staff at his feet and used the toe of his boot to flip it back into his outstretched palm. "Next time I'll aim between your legs," he warned Thrawn.

The Chiss lowered his hands and gave Ezra a quick taunting smirk. Then he beckoned with an open palm for the Jed to attack first.

But instead of advancing towards Thrawn, Ezra turned on heel and began running in the opposite direction. Everyone watched Thrawn relentlessly chase his prey across the room.

"Why is he fleeing like a coward?" Ma'rabif demanded.

Nobody could understand the logic behind Ezra's move. He was advancing towards one of the walls and if he did not turn away, would be trapped between an unyielding barrier and an unforgiving opponent.

But instead of moving to the side, Ezra continued to race forward. Just before his face was about to collide with the wall, he pressed his foot against it and used the momentum to propel himself upwards. His spine arched as his body whipped backwards, sailing over Thrawn's head and landing on both feet behind him.

The opening was clear and Ezra took it, swinging his staff around so quickly that Thrawn didn't have time to turn until he felt the Jedi's staff strike against his ribcage.

A hit!

Several of the junior officers murmured among themselves. Even Admiral Ar'alani looked intrigued. But Thrawn was clearly not amused and he drove his staff down towards the center of Ezra's forehead. Ezra stretched out his staff to meet Thrawn's but the Chiss' surprise stuck him in the face when their staffs collided, blocking the blow.

Then came the sound of wood breaking.

Ezra's staff had snapped clean in two, one piece already rolling too far away for him to reach. He found himself standing alone and holding only half a weapon in his hand.

But that was all he needed.

Thrawn observed him wrap both hands around the end of his remaining staff and draw it up towards his right ear. Ezra crouched in place, steeling himself for the next blow.

The Chiss lashed out at him with the speed of lightning. Ezra quickly jabbed forward to protect his exposed stomach, then blocked a high lunge.

This was Makashi, the contention form. " _Effective against a single opponent_ ", Kanan had told him. Ezra centered his attention on his feet, keeping them in constant circular motions as he lunged and struck out against Thrawn's staff. Everyone observed the peculiar yet effective momentum.

"Is this a fight or a dance competition?" Ma'rabif muttered under his breath.

Ranu clasped her hands together to contain her excitement. "I don't know. But it's working for Ezra," she whispered.

Kyler shook his head gravely. "Don't let those elaborate moves distract you from the fact that Mith'raw'nuruodo still has the upper hand."

Indeed, Thrawn could see Ezra's fighting stance had shifted and had altered his tactics. He ceased striking head-on and began maneuvering around Ezra in an attempt to confuse him, sending blows from every angle possible.

The young Jedi momentarily panicked until he sensed the oncoming attack was no different from dodging stormtrooper blaster fire. He smiled briefly. Soresu, form three. Kanan's favorite form to the point of obsession.

It required patience and endurance, constantly _look-look-look_ to see where the attackers were coming from. No sooner did Ezra fend off one blow then he turned his head to protect his shoulders against another, even dropping to the floor with his palm pressed to the ground.

He couldn't anticipate Thrawn's attacks but he _could_ control his own movements. Control his breath. Control himself. Feel the vibrations of the staffs when they struck against each other. Feel the foundation of the ground supporting his feet.

He was not just on Csilla, dueling with his enemy. He recalling the instances on his beloved home planet with his master who was telling him, " _Keep your blade up_!" as Ezra, an excited fifteen-year-old, eagerly listened to the instructions.

" _I'm mediating with Kanan,_ he thought. " _I'm stealing a TIE fighter with Zeb. I'm going through lightsaber forms with Sabine. I'm learning to fly a Y-wing from Hera."_

" _They're here in my mind and I am with them even now, every lesson I've learned and shared coming together."_

The Chiss didn't slow down. For every step Ezra took forward, Thrawn caused him to stagger back two. And yet he had not been beaten. Ezra continued to keep himself him on the move, using his agility to dodge and block Thrawn's attacks. Sweat was pouring down the Jedi's face and stinging his eyes. He was hit once on the collarbone and another on the hand, causing the skin of his wrist to redden and swell.

But he was still fighting. Still moving. Still in focus with this moment and every other experience in his life.

 _I'm in the Jedi temple with Kanan. I'm on Malachor with Maul. I'm in a World between Worlds with Ahsoka._

 _I'm in the eye of a storm, in a blizzard of snow. I'm within ocean of sands and a sea of starlight. I am in the corners of the galaxy and the center of the universe._

 _I am one with the Force and the Force is with me._

Thrawn's hands slid from the center of his staff down one end and he stabbed forward in a pike-like motion. The staff's end collided into Ezra's forehead, raining stars upon his brain. He staggered back dizzily just before Thrawn swung his staff in a half-circle and hit Ezra with a final blow that sent him sprawling across the training room. His body rolled several times before it came to a complete stop.

Ezra lay flat on his back. His lungs burned as sweet fresh air crawled into them. His muscles twitched from the burst of exertion. He was fatigued beyond explanation yet relieved to be still at last.

" _I lost,"_ he thought. _"But I fought, Kanan. I fought as hard as I could."_

The young Jedi closed his eyes and let out a sigh of reluctance.

"Commander Bridger!"

His name came out in several different Chiss voices and he saw people hovering over him.

"Stay back," Mikh'al voice snapped. "Give him enough air. Commander Bridger, can you hear me?"

"Yes," Ezra heard himself say. After confirming that he could also see Mikh'al, Ezra was pulled to his feet and led to a nearby bench. Someone swiped a cloth over his brow to clean away the sweat while a cool drink was pressed into his hands. Despite Mikh'al's constant demands that Ezra re-hydrate himself, he couldn't bring himself to take a sip.

"I lost," he said at last. His shoulders sagged with the realization that he had failed to impress Admiral Ar'alani and her colleagues.

"No, Ezra. We were tested for stamina, remember?" Kyler said.

Still reeling from Thrawn's blow, Ezra blinked at him in confusion.

"You lasted longer than every other person in the fleet," Ranu explained.

Relief flickered within Ezra. "I did?"

She nodded eagerly. "No one else held their ground against Mith'raw'nuruodo half as long as you did."

Her words should have absorbed into Ezra, stirring up hope and inspiration within him. But as she was speaking further, a new image was rapidly forming in his mind. Ezra blinked and squinted to clear his sight but the person in his vision was becoming more focused. He could hear black boots thumping against the ground in perfect formation and the hissing sound of doors opening and closing. He could almost taste the cool dry air of another space.

A swirl of white fabric brushed against Ezra's thoughts…

 _She follows along meekly and feels the binders pinching the skin of her slim wrists. She is young, barely nineteen years old, with her hair pinned up into two professional buns and a simple white dress bearing the style of her noble ranking. Her skin contracts and she shivers from more than the frigid air around her._

"L-leia?" he stammered. Why was Ezra imagining her right now? And where were her bodyguards and the rest of her fleet? From all he could detect, she was alone. Leia's façade to her captors was that of a calm princess but Ezra knew she was terrified inside.

"I insist that you return to my laboratory so that I can be sure you didn't suffer a concussion," Mikh'al was saying. But his voice was fading in the background while Leia's own voice was growing stronger.

" _Governor Tarkin_ ," she snapped, doing her best to suppress her terror. Ezra recognized the tall thin gaunt man who had just slid into focus. Tarkin looked down at Leia and gave her an icy smile. He reached out and pinched her face between his fingers.

" _Charming to the last,"_ he was saying in a silky voice. " _You don't know how hard I found it signing the order to terminate your life."_

Termination! Ezra's head was growing feverish from the sound of the word while his mouth had become dry. He had to save Leia from danger!

Ezra planted his feet on the ground and tried to stand. But he instantly reeled backwards as the images whirled within his mind. And Mikh'al was still nearby, arguing with Kyler about how to best treat their human ally.

" _I would like you to be my guest at a ceremony that will make this battle station_ …" Tarkin was saying.

" _What battle station?"_ Ezra thought. No sooner had he posed the question when a third figure slid into formation. The powerful build of a being incased in black, the flowing cape of midnight, and the rasping wheeze of a respirator pumping air into the monstrous creature….

Darth Vader. He and Tarkin were holding Leia captive. But could the Sith sense Ezra's presence gazing into their conversation? Would he kill Leia at once to punish the Jedi? The wretched chilling shudder that came with the Dark Side slithered into Ezra's bones and he shivered.

"I don't feel good," he mumbled thickly. A surge of nausea encompassed Ezra and his head wobbled heavily. He tried to suppress the feelings but they were rapidly overtaking him until he could hear Tarkin's voice loud and clear saying, _"….test on your home planet."_

Leia spluttered, beginning him for mercy. " _No!_ _Alderaan is peaceful, we have no weapons—"_

" _Would you prefer another target? A military target?"_ he snarled at her.

"Ezra, here's the stretcher. We're going to help you get onto it." Ezra felt Kyler's hands come under his arms as the Chiss tried to lift him up.

"N-no," he groaned. Ezra's head crashed forward between his knees as he struggled helplessly against the horrible scenario unfolding before him. Tarkin continued to press orders upon Leia, who was trapped between the Grand Moff and the ruthless Sith lord. She managed to mutter something in a feeble voice before Tarkin gave an order and she cried out in protest.

"Have to help…Leia," he whispered. "Must save…princess.."

The universe shifted around Ezra and he saw in his mind's eye a beautiful planet floating serenely in space. Then in a flash, he saw a monstrous beam of energy burst out of space and strike into the heart of the planet. All at once, the world shattered before him in an inferno of flaming sparks and storms of ash. His ears filled with the blood-drenched cries as millions of souls all cried out in terror at once.

The unbearable sound flooded Ezra's body and all but shattered his eardrums. He screamed aloud, clutching his forehead. The young Jedi collapsed at Mikh'al's feet and writhed in pain as he howled out a single name.

" _Leia_!"

A-A-A

 _Later:_

"This is medical audio log three two seven of Doctor Mikh'al of the Chiss Junior Medical Department."

"It has been four days since Commander Ezra Bridger has been brought to our senior healing facility and he has remained in a coma-like status ever since. At first I presumed he was experiencing a seizure and made sure to give him adequate space so that he could not hurt himself or anyone else. But after several moments his body went slack and he was rendered unconscious.

"Other physicians have examined him but since I have had the benefit of treating him before, Bridger was placed fully under my supervision."

"I was able to inject fluids into his body to keep his temperate down but he has shown no signs of improvement. Vitals are stable but the cause of his outbreak is uncertain. His fingertips did move at some point and the movement was recorded to see if he is communicating in code. From this I can concur that Bridger is indeed aware of his surroundings even if he is unable to reach further conscience. But that has become irregular and there has been no reaction in the last 24 hours."

"This concludes audio log three two seven."

 _*Click click*_

 _Excerpt from Mikh'als private transcriptions:_

I confess that I am at a loss. This incompetence on my behalf should not eclipse the greater concern that our guest is in physical and likely emotional pain. Nevertheless, I find myself growing frustrated that I cannot do more to restore him to proper health. Ezra Bridger is in my care and I am responsible for his well-being.

For now, monitoring his vital signs and making certain Bridger's fever does not spike back up are the only practical actions I can do.

His illness has had an empathetic effect on others. Officers Kyler and Ranu have visited him as well as Syndic Ashray and Commander Eli Vanto. For their sakes, I have made myself as professional as possible whenever they inquire about his progress. But one alone, I am disturbed and perplexed. I am tempted to agree with Commander Vanto that the cause of Ezra's inflictions are based in his supernatural abilities. But to do that would mean venturing into topics that I know nothing about.

And I do not wish to do harm to one who has done nothing to threaten the Fleet or the Ascendency. Despite, or perhaps _because_ of his eccentricities, I have come to enjoy Bridger's insightfulness. I believe he could become a positive boon to our causes and perhaps even a great ally to the Chiss…if he ever recovers.

A-A-A

"Hey, Ezra. It's me, Eli. I know you probably can't hear me but if you do, just wiggle your fingers or your toes. Yeah, I didn't think so."

"Well, a lot's happened over the last few days. As soon as Admiral Ar'alani saw you convulsing on the floor she had Thrawn put under arrest. A lot of the Chiss think his last blow must've done a hard number to your head and he's considered guilty for causing your condition."

"I have to admit, he _is_ responsible for your fate here. I guess your destinies were meant to collide just as Thrawn's did with mine. But while you knew him at his worst, I knew him at his best."

"I spoke to Admiral Ar'alani and she said it wasn't just Thrawn's attack on you. The rest of the Ascendency have agreed to hold him in prison because…because he's going to face court martial at last. I guess they've decided whatever he did in the Empire is finally going to have to be paid up."

"Here's the worst part of it: they won't put him on trial until you wake up. Your attendance is expected to be a big part of his judgement. You can see why I'm conflicted now and-damnit! _Karabast_ , why'd everything come this?!"

"Don't you see, Ezra? One of my friends is going to be pitted against the other and I'm not allowed to get stuck in the crossfire. I'm also scared; if I open my mouth and say something stupid, either you or Thrawn could pay the price. Or even worse, the Ascendency could turn on each other and they'd have a civil war on their hands. You think Mandalorians are violent among themselves; the Chiss would create their own bloodbath!"

"I've commanded ships and instructed officers in my lifetime but now I just feel so messed up right now…."

"Sorry about that, Ezra. I don't know much about Jedi but I do know you've got a huge duty ahead of you. I wish you didn't have to handle it."

"But please, damnit, _please_ come out of it. I can't take any direction without you. Whatever is holding you down, fight it. Come back to us. Give us some hope for the future."

A-A-A

Where is Master? That question has been tormenting Genet.

He has been locked up in Master's room for days until Ash finally opened it and let Genet out. He was worried she wouldn't understand how hungry and thirsty he was. But Ash refilled his water dish and then brought him a bowl of chopped fish with spicy grains. Genet scarfed everything down and when his thirst was slacked, he darted out of the room and went sniffing around for Master. Ash followed him.

Now he finds Master in a strange cold room with sterile smells. Master is lying down in a bed with white sheets. But his face is somber and his body is stiff. Is he dead? Genet rushes forward and hops onto the bed, then pokes his nose against Maser's hand. The palm is cool to the touch. Not cold. Genet sniffs further along Master's face and notices air coming out of Master's nose. Master is indeed alive; that is very good.

But what is not so good is that Master's skin should be warmer. He should be sitting up in bed and smiling, his blue eyes full of life. It is not right for him to be sleeping this long.

One of the blue-skinned ones is shouting and Genet can tell he does not like the tooka. He tries to pull Genet off the bed but Genet hooks his claws into the sheets. He must stay with Master! Maser needs him! The blue-skinned one snarls at Genet, who snarls back. But Ash arrives and says some things to calm the other one down. Dohk-tor, she calls him. Dohk-tor is still mad at Genet but he does not put Genet away. He lets Genet stay with Master even if Dohk-tor does not like Genet.

Genet places his paws upon the pillow and licks Master's face. Maser does not wake up. Genet nips at Master's ear. Master will be mad and shout "no!" but at least he will open his eyes.

But they do not open! Genet whimpers unhappily. What is wrong with Master?

Ash sets Genet into her lap and stroked the fur along his spine. She speaks soothingly to Genet but her tone is sad. She also wants Master to wake up. She lifts Genet up to her face as she hugs him. Genet licks some of the dampness off her cheek and it tastes salty.

They wait. And wait. Master is still too quiet. The silence is far too long. But there is nothing Ash and Genet can do and so they wait some more.

A-A-A

The humming sound of a machine stirring in Ezra's ears. He opened his eyes halfway, groaning when a harsh white light nearly seared into his head. A hand lifted into the air and hovered above his brow but he had to let it fall back down because it was like a brick on the end of his arm.

His entire body felt heavy as stone. Even his eyelids. Ezra closed them back again and floated in a half-daze until the white lights dimmed slightly. Then he dared to look up again to see Ashray and Mikh'al standing over his bed.

"Commander Bridger!" the doctor exclaimed.

"Ezra!" Ashray gasped. She rested her hands upon the railing of his bed. "Are you all right?"

His throat instantly contracted as he tried to swallow. Mikh'al immediately said, "Don't push yourself. You haven't used your vocal chords in a week. Can I fetch you something to drink?"

Ezra gave a weak nod. Mikh'al ordered Ashray to adjust Ezra's bed to an upright position and then brought him a cup of purple liquid. The doctor helped Ezra prop the cup to his lips so he could take tiny sips of the sweet icy drink.

He swallowed again and heard a strange crackling sensation in his ears. "Hi," he whispered hoarsely.

Mikh'al wouldn't let him do anything else except finish the rest of the medicine, even though it took him quite some time to drink it all down. But already Mikh'al's remedy was sending strength flowing back into Ezra's limbs and clearing his mind.

"A week?" he repeated aloud.

Ashray nodded. "Everyone said you've been in a coma since the match against Mith'raw'nuruodo. Does your head hurt?"

Ezra's hand came to his head. He still felt groggy from waking up but no other sign of pain there. But then he recalled the Force vision and felt the black void form within his chest. Whatever he had seen, the people who had cried out, was real. Something terrible had occurred and someone—or something-was gone.

He tried to get out of bed but Mikh'al prevented him from standing up. "You're still my patient," he announced. "I insist that you wait at least 24 hours until I can confirm that you're back to sufficient health."

"Ezra, what is wrong? You look pained," said Ashray.

"Is there anything we can do to assist you?" Mikh'al added.

"Yes, Doctor Mikh'al. There is something you can do," said Ezra.

"I need to speak to Mith'raw'nuruodo."

A-A-A

 _Two days later:_

It took longer for Ezra to get where he needed to be. Mikh'al demanded that he take in some proper nourishment and remain where he was until the young Chiss physician could conduct several tests and confirm that Ezra was no longer in any danger.

Once released from the medical bay, Ezra contacted Admiral Ar'alani and submitted his request to talk privately with Thrawn. Now half a dozen Chiss guards were leading Ezra to a compound that was brightly-lit compared to the dim atmosphere of Imperial prisons. One of them keyed in codes while two others kept their hands on their blasters.

"Are you expecting him to escape?" Ezra asked one of them.

"We cannot take any chances with Mith'raw'nuruodo," she told him. The doors swished open and Ezra was offered to step inside.

"You have fifteen minutes," she told him. The guard handed him a small rectangular transmitter with a flashing green button on the surface. "Should he attempt to attack you or escape, press that button and it will summon us to his cell."

Ezra slipped the transmitter into his pocket. He stepped into the prison room and the doors closed behind him.

Thrawn sat upon a simple cot. Binders shackled his hands and feet together. Though he was weaponless and wore the plain gray tunic of a prisoner, there was still an air of regal confidence around him. And his red eyes continued to glow with keen interest towards Ezra.

"Commander Bridger," he stated at last. "What brings you here?"

Ezra sat down on the bench opposite Thrawn. "We need to talk," he said.

Thrawn shrugged his shoulders. "Of course. How can I assist you?"

"I had an image through the Force," Ezra said. "I saw Princess Leia being held captive by Grand Moff Tarkin and Darth Vader. They were trying to get her to confess something. And then there was this machine, this giant Imperial device. I heard an explosion…"

Thrawn's eyes were flashing attentively now.

Ezra pressed a hand to his right temple. "I heard a terrible sound, like a scream magnified a thousand times. And then it was gone. But the effect is still here." He gestured to his chest. "Something isn't right. The Empire did something horrible."

He starred at Thrawn. "You know what I'm talking about, don't you? Saw Gerrera told us that the Empire was preparing some kind of 'super-weapon'."

"What else do you know about this 'super-weapon'?" Thrawn asked carefully.

"My friends and I learned that the Geonosians were involved in some big project but the Empire wiped them out with poisonous gas. They've been mining kyber crystals too. Lots of them."

Thrawn leaned back against the wall of his prison cell. "So," he said softly. "Director Krennic has finished his task and it is complete."

"It?" Ezra demanded. "What are you talking about?"

Thrawn said nothing.

Ezra had lost his patience. "Tell me!" he shouted.

The Chiss closed his eyes for a moment. "I see there is no point in guarding it any longer," he said at last.

The terrible eyes opened again and fixed themselves upon Ezra's blue stare.

Then Thrawn uttered a few words that brought Ezra's world crashing down again.

A-A-A

"Death Star," Ezra repeated. The words dropped into the bottom of his stomach.

He had to rest his head between his knees to prevent passing out again. Everything was falling into place now: the sudden disappearance of the Geonosians, the enormous kyber crystal he had heard singing to him, Saw Gerrera's intel that came close but never fully materialized, and the importance of Protocol Thirteen.

"It is a mobile battle station that can travel through hyperspace. Kyber crystals power the Death Star's central laser beams," Thrawn explained quietly.

Ezra was trembling all over with horror. To think that the very same gemstone that empowered a Jedi's sacred weapon had been magnified and twisted into a weapon by the organization that had sought to obliterate them all.

"W-what can the Death Star do?" he heard himself say in a shaky voice.

"It has the capability to obliterate an entire planet…effectively."

The Jedi gaped at his enemy who had just uttered the comment as civilly as providing a math equation. The numbing effect of shock was wearing off, rapidly replaced by the swell of anger rising up within Ezra. The Empire had been creating, and now held, a weapon that could slaughter millions of people at once? And Thrawn had not only known but allowed such a terrible project to exist?!

He let out a roar and lunged at Thrawn. He seized the Chiss by his shirt and drove him up against the wall. The Chiss made no effort to resist.

"You monster!" he yelled, shaking Thrawn's tunic. "You _murderer_! How could you let something so horrible happen?"

"I did not approve of the Death Star since—"

 _Crack_!

Ezra's hand snapped forward, breaking the Chiss's nose. Blood spurted down Thrawn's face like a writhing crimson animal. "Murderer!" Ezra screamed again, curling up his fingers for the next blow.

Thrawn swiftly balled his own fists together and cuffed Ezra hard across his brow. The Jedi went staggering back against his bench.

Thrawn took his place again and proceeded to wipe the blood off his face. Ezra was rubbing his sore head as hot thick tears swelled up in his eyes and streamed down his cheeks. "How could you?" he repeated. "How _could_ you?"

"I'll give you a scenario: you and I face a dangerous predator that will devour anything in its path. We cannot outrun it and have limited weapons. What are our options?"

"I'm not answering any of your insane riddles now!" snapped Ezra.

"Then you will never understand my motives," Thrawn commented.

Ezra pushed a palm upwards and across his damp face. He couldn't think clearly now, let alone play along with Thrawn's strategy games. "I don't know and I don't care. This has nothing to do with the Death Star."

"But it does, Ezra Bridger. It has everything to do with the Empire's greatest feat."

Thrawn continued. "The most common option in facing the predator is for us to work together to defeat it. We band together to fight it or one distracts it while another finds a weakness. But what if the predator is too strong for the both of us?"

The young Jedi said nothing. Thrawn went on.

"The third option is that you strike me down to make me the easier prey. The predator will consume me while you escape to find a weapon to defend yourself."

Ezra grimaced in disgust. "That's immoral."

"It is practical. If you do not use the third option then we both perish. That is the Jedi way, is it not?"

"No! No Jedi would ever let himself or anyone else go blindly into death!" Ezra cried out, leaping to his feet. "What makes you think your own life is more valuable than another person's? Does being a grand admiral or a military genius give you the right to decide who lives and who dies?!"

"You still do not understand. In spite of all that you have learned here, you remain woefully naïve," Thrawn murmured. "When I was brought before the Emperor for the first time, I had a swift decision to make: consider the Empire an effective ally against the enemies of the Chiss or a useful distraction to fend off those enemies."

"When I learned about the Death Star, I advised the Emperor against pursuing such enormous and expensive projects. Nevertheless, he was confident that the Death Star's capability would be far more effective than a fleet of Star Destroyers. I knew defying his plans would be unwise but was able to redirect some of the Death Star's funding and attention towards Lothal's TIE defender factory."

Ezra was repulsed. The Chiss remained cold-blooded as ever.

"You've played all of us," Ezra accused him. "The Empire, the Rebellion, me, even Eli…all of this for what? To protect your people?"

Thrawn starred coolly at him.

"Isn't there ever anything your life you've regretted?" Ezra nearly begged. "A chance when you wondered if you made the right decision, knowing how many people you've endangered from your actions?"

"I do not permit myself the luxury of regret," Thrawn stated evenly. "Hope is an ineffective strategy. It does not arm your troops or fill their stomachs. Only efficiency and authority can fight off encompassing evils in the universe. For all of his errors, that is something the Emperor understood. But you continue to fail to comprehend the end game."

Ezra buried his face in his hands, feeling himself drowning in grief and shame. To think that all this time he had been focusing on freeing Lothal, on helping his own people, when Thrawn had quietly been watching the Death Star form in the depths of the Empire's mighty grip. If only the Force had told him sooner! If only he and the Ghost crew had learned before it was too late. Then Leia's beautiful world could be saved and all of her people remain alive.

"There is something else you must know," Thrawn went on.

"I don't want to hear it," Ezra groaned.

The Chiss was relentless. "What you want is irrelevant. The Sith lord that you know as Darth Vader was once the Jedi general Anakin Skywalker."

The knife Thrawn had plunged into Ezra's chest was being twisted further.

The young Jedi's head jerked up with shock. "No." The word died upon his lips. "No….that can't be! You're just messing with my head again!"

"I am not."

Ezra closed his wet eyes and delved into the Force, searching for the truth. Yes, the Chiss' wretched words were not deceptions. In his mind's eye Ezra saw the hologram of young General Skywalker, ambitious and smiling confidently as he demonstrated lightsaber forms.

It melted away and was replaced by the barbarous mask of Darth Vader.

" _Ashoka_ ," Ezra thought sadly. " _Poor Ashoka."_ Two more tears chased down his face: one for her, one for her master.

No wonder she had told him that she couldn't save her master. She knew what he had become and could not reveal this secret to anyone else, no matter how much she trusted them. How could she bear knowing that the man who had treated her with kindness had become her sworn enemy?

"How did you know?" Ezra heard himself ask.

"General Skywalker and I met briefly during the Clone Wars before parting ways. The Emperor told me that his 'servant' had suffered a fatal wound on Mustafar. I discovered that Darth Vader's permanent stronghold was the same place of Skywalker's demise and knew it was no coincidence. Nor was it by chance that all public knowledge of Vader only surfaced after the Clone Wars had ended. Recognition was unavoidable when I finally faced Vader in person."

When Ezra found his voice again it was in a low heavy groan. "Why are you telling me these horrible things?"

"I am telling you this because we have little time left. Now that you have all of the facts before you, you may act without bias or confusion at my trial."

"I don't understand. Do you want me to condemn your life?"

Thrawn's binders clinked softly. "I want you to exact full judgement upon me without Jedi compassion or morals clouding your perception of me. There must be no mercy or half-formed decisions. I will accept all consequences as befits a warrior of my caliber."

"Then we'll both have blood on our hands," said Ezra bitterly.

Thrawn stood up from his cot, his great height towering over the crumpled form of Ezra Bridger. The doors behind them parted open and the guards swiftly descended down the staircase to take Ezra away. Thrawn's final words haunted the Jedi as he left the room.

"We already have, Ezra. We already have."

A-A-A

 _Later:_

He slumped over in a corner of his room. His mind was reeling from all of the facts that Thrawn had presented to him.

 _The Death Star. Alderaan. Ahsoka._

 _Vader._ No _. Skywalker._

Each one was a weapon in Thrawn's arson, an effective campaign that he had launched to subdue Ezra. Each was a device of torture that had cut into Ezra's soul, bleeding out whatever small storage of courage he had mustered together since coming to Csilla.

Now Ezra had been commanded to take the life of his enemy into his own hands and deal with the outcome. He felt the burden of worlds weighing down upon his chest until Ezra was sure his heart would burst into two or crush into tiny splinters of glass.

"I have no idea what's right anymore, Kanan," he said aloud.

The mute resolution of the Force confirmed his fears. He had been sealed off from its ethereal greatness. Perhaps he was no longer worthy of it.

Ezra closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the wall, speaking whatever came to his mind. "I can't fight this battle anymore," he said aloud. "I wish I was never a Jedi. I wish I had never been born."

Weighed down with melancholy and the grief of a lost world, Ezra drew his knees into his stomach and rested his head upon them. He did not weep or speak. He remained in place for hours, never moving a single muscle, as the amber twilight faded into darkness.

Sometime long into the night, Ezra was rustled from his daze when he sensed the air around him had shifted.

He slowly lifted his head up. He had not heard the sound of his door opening or footsteps upon the ground. And yet here the newcomer was, standing straight and noble as she gazed down upon him. Her presence had come as softly as a gentle breath of air yet was so overwhelming that he gasped aloud.

She was so tall as to tower above him. There was no wind and yet her hair and garments swayed slightly against her luminous pale skin. Her hair was green as spring grass and it flowed and rippled around her shoulders, cascading down her back like a river. Golden robes encompassed her slender body and a jeweled headpiece rested above her brow. Her lips were red as coral but set into a firmness that spoke of solemnness, not smiles.

Her eyes were green as emeralds and glowed with ancient wisdom. She was a being that spoke of a loveliness that was timeless, infinite in grace and eternal in dreams as in waking.

She was beautiful, achingly so, and Ezra knew he could have stared at her for a thousand years and never tire of looking at her.

The question of who she was rested upon his tongue but he dared not ask. Somehow, it dawned upon Ezra that he had indeed encountered her before in his life and he must not trifle her with useless words. She continued to stare at him as he gazed back in awe, waiting to see who would respond first. It could have been a moment or an hour later when Ezra finally had the courage to ask in a trembling voice:

"Are you Morai?"

Her chin tilted slightly up. When she spoke her voice was clear as glass and deep as an ocean. It was a proud voice, grave and firm, and it sent a tremble through Ezra.

"It is one of my names. But you know me as the Daughter."

He nodded weakly. "I've seen you before, haven't I? From the painting Jedi temple at Lothal."

She inclined her head towards him.

He struggled to swallow the tight lump in his throat. "Why are you here?"

The ancient eyes glistened at him. "Because you are here, Bridge-Maker."

The name she used for Ezra was peculiar on his ears, as though the Daughter spoke of someone else other than him.

"You are in great pain, Bridge-Maker. What troubles you?"

"Everything." Now that their silence was broken, the words streamed out of Ezra's mouth. "Everything is wrong. I should never have come to Csilla. I should have stayed in my part of the galaxy. Now my friends are in danger because of the Death Star and I'm trapped here with my enemy. And I can't use the Force like I used to before. I can barely move anything."

"You are mistaken. You have moved far more than you know."

"How?" Ezra burst out at her. Fresh energy finally brought him to his feet and strengthened his voice. "How can I help protect anyone when I can barely take care of myself? I know it's not what a Jedi should think but all I can think of doing is getting strong again to punish the Empire."

"I want Thrawn to die, I want to destroy the Death Star myself, I want….I want to drive a lightsaber through Darth Vader's heart!" he ended on a frantic shout.

The Daughter's lips pinched together and Ezra sensed from the narrowing of her eyes that he had spoken words that displeased her. But then her expression softened into something that resembled sadness.

"Then you will perish," she said softly. "You were fortunate to resist the Dark Side before. But should you face the Sith ever again, you will surely turn or you will die. The ones you care for will suffer for your loss."

He sank back to his knees and bowed his head, humbled by her words. "I know. I'm, I'm sorry. I should have known I couldn't face another trial like I did on Lothal."

"Do not berate yourself," she told him. "You are a Force-wielder, a bearer of the Light Side. It is a gift to embrace and a burden to carry."

"But why is it so hard for me here on Csilla? Why did the Force leave me when I needed it the most?" Ezra begged her.

The Daughter's cool green eyes shimmered. "Why do you think it has forsaken you?"

"Because if I had all of my powers I could have shown the Chiss was I was really capable of," insisted Ezra.

This time she frowned at him and her beautiful features hardened. She was almost terrifying as she demanded, "And then would the sons and daughters of Csilla feel?"

The harshness of her words caused him to shrink within himself. The question reshaped itself into new scenarios and feelings. He could imagine what would have happened if he had marched up to the Ascendancy with all the scope of his abilities. Ezra closed his eyes and inclined himself towards Daughter.

"Fear," he said at last. "Jealousy. Resentment. Suspicion. Anger." He opened his eyes again, now understanding her words. "They would have seen me as a threat. They would have hated the Force and myself."

The harshness he had sensed radiating off the Daughter had passed and now her essence was serene again. She nodded in confirmation. "It was not great powers or feats that made you worthy to them. You have found favor in their eyes with your merits, courage, and integrity. In doing so you have been fulfilling your destiny."

Ezra let out a small sigh. "I think I understand now. But what about the Death Star? I can't stand by knowing it's still out there hurting people."

The Daughter turned her head aside as though observing something Ezra could not see. "The weapon you speak of is no more."

"What do you mean?"

"There has been much conflict in the galaxy recently. The ones who have fought by your side have destroyed it." She faced Ezra again. "They still have much to endure. But for now, no planet will share Alderaan's fate."

For the first time in many days, joy filled Ezra's heart. "But who did it? And how?" he begged. "Please, tell me."

She shook her head at him. "I have already revealed enough. I can tell you no more lest it do harm."

" _Once a secret is known_ ," the Bendu had warned him. " _It cannot be unknown_."

Sensing Ezra's inner conflict, the Daughter continued speaking.

"You have forged a noble spark of a rebellion and it has ignited across worlds, Bridge-Maker. You have brought hope to many lives. Now another must bear that torch if the Force is ever to regain balance again. Are you willing to let go of that responsibility and trust your friends to carry on the fight?"

"I, I suppose so," he yielded at last. "If it will bring peace to the galaxy. But what about Darth Vader and the Emperor? If I can't face them again, is there someone who can?"

The Daughter said nothing. Yet in her silence, Ezra understood the answer she gave him.

"And what about Thrawn?" he went on. "Is it my destiny to decide upon his fate?"

"The son of Csilla chose to spare your life. Now you must choose what to do with his."

He sighed and rubbed a hand through his hair. Ezra pondered to himself as he remembered Eli's fable.

"If this is where I'm supposed to be and this is my new responsibility, I must ask the Force to help me decide the right thing to do with him," he said at last.

This time the Daughter gave him a smile that warmed Ezra all over. "Your request is just and honorable, Bridge-Maker. I will help you to obtain it."

She lowered herself until the Daughter could meet Ezra's gaze. A hand came under his chin and lifted his face up so that he could now gaze into her endless eyes. In them he saw endless stars, whispers of mysteries as he thought of when he had once walked World Between Worlds. But her radiating beauty overwhelmed Ezra and he had to shift his gaze from falling and losing himself in that great and mighty secret.

"I cannot remove the burden that has been placed upon your shoulders. But I do know that if you carry on this path, and continue to trust in the Force, what was once a hardship shall become a blessing and boon to you," the Daughter promised him. "You will live, Bridge-Maker. And your life shall be blessed ever more for knowing the Force."

"T-thank you," he managed to stammer. The Daughter drew her hand away from him and he felt his heartbeat begin to steady again.

Ezra added, "Will you stay with me? Just a little while longer?"

The Daughter shook her head. "I have lingered here long enough and must return beyond the veil. But I will grant you a gift to ease your wounds."

She reached out to him and his eyes instantly closed again, humbled by her greatness. He anticipated feeling a hand upon his forehead but instead, Ezra was awash with the warmth of Lothal's spring sun that embraced him from the crown of his head down to his toes. It was an embrace of light and glory that flooded him with a cleansing energy until his spirit felt refreshed and calm.

"I bless you with the grace of the Force."

She drew back her hand. Instantly, Ezra felt his body growing relaxed. His eyelids were growing heavy and he felt himself falling into a soft safe place. This was not the Dark Side but something else, an essence of the Force that protect in the night as well as the day, and he let it wash over him like a hot bath. It was the guardian of dreams for mortals who slept to replenish their spirits. He welcomed it like an old friend as it led him into deeper conscience and into slumber.

Somewhere in his thoughts came the last words from the Daughter.

 _"There is another like you, Bridge-Maker. There is another hope."_

A-A-A

Ezra didn't recall getting into bed or how he fell asleep. But the next thing he knew it he waking up in his dormitory room with the blankets tucked around him. Genet was curled up into the crook of his arm with his furry stomach rising up and down with every breath as he trilled in his sleep. Ezra propped up his head up with one hand and rubbed the tooka's back for a few minutes. Then he tentatively placed a palm to his chest.

The wound of Alderaan's loss remained. But the sensation no longer stunned Ezra and he knew he could carry it within him, aware it would heal in time. He could not undo what the Empire had done but he could do his part to remedy another error.

He got out of bed, bathed, and dressed with carefulness and precision. Ezra made sure to select his best-ironed uniform and slipped on a formal black jacket reserved for special occasions. He observed his face in the mirror while combing out his hair.

" _Maybe it's time to cut it short again,"_ he thought. Time to let go again. It would be no disrespect to his mentor. He would find other ways to show his gratitude for the wisdom of Kanan Jarrus.

He glanced down to see Genet sitting on the table with a leather cord in his mouth. Ezra gave the tooka an affectionate pat on the head and took the cord from him. When he was done binding his hair, he turned on his comm-link.

"Eli, how soon can the Ascendancy be assembled for the trial?"

" _The trial?_ " he confirmed. " _By this afternoon. Do you want me to contact Admiral Ar'alani right now?_ "

"Yes please."

 _"I'll get started at once."_

"Thank you, Eli. I know this can't be easy for you. But whatever the outcome is, I know you're an honorable man."

 _"Don't know if I'll feel the same after the trial."_

Silence. Then Eli's voice came again through the comm-link. _"What about you, Ezra? Are you all right?"_

There was a pause. "No, Eli. I'm not," the Jedi admitted. "But things will be."

A-A-A

Junior Officer Tentivra'aanu was annoyed that she wasn't allowed to attend the trial. She knew it was unnecessary to permit the junior members attend a matter of great importance such as the future of Mith'raw'nuruodo but who could ignore such a crucial event? Admiral Ar'alani finally consented by permitting a single person to represent the junior fleet at the trial, so long as that person not speak a single word or cause a distraction.

Kyler had been chosen for that great privilege and he promised to tell Ranu everything. He arrived early and took his place in the back of the small elegant room where he wouldn't be noticed at the top of the raised seats. Twenty representatives of the Ruling Families entered afterwards and he bowed respectfully to them. They nodded politely and took their places in their green velvet chairs. The Chiss senators and judges who served the Ascendency followed next, all taking their seats behind the large silver dais at the other end of the room.

Commanders Eli Vanto and Ezra Bridger followed the Ascendancy and took their seats nearby. Vanto had dark circles under his eyes and his facial muscles were strained. He must have endured a restless night.

Bridger, on the other hand, looked composed but remarkably pale. His skin was almost translucent and his eyes burned steadily like blue flames. He carried himself with composure as he bowed to the Ascendancy and then took his place beside Vanto.

When everyone was seated and counted for, a silence filled the room. Then Lord Nirasu, noble and somber in his dark green robes, stepped out from behind the dais and stepped up to the podium.

"The Council of the Ascendency will now listen to the testimony of Mith'raw'nuruodo to determine if he is guilty of violating the rules and protocols of the Chiss," he began.

Kyler leaned closer to hear the testimonies. Thrawn was informed by Lord Nirasu, Admiral Ar'alani, and several other Chiss officers of the laws held most sacred to their people. By swearing his allegiance to the Empire and carrying out the orders of Emperor Palpatine, Thrawn had not only violated their legal regulations but disgraced the Chiss people.

In a few sentences, Thrawn calmly explained his need to observe the Empire to the best of his abilities. He reminded the Ascendency that the safety of Csilla was his first and foremost priority and he had done nothing to compromise the well-being of their world.

"And yet you exercised your own judgement by providing Eli Vanto with navigation charts so that he could find Csilla," said Lord Nirasu. Everyone except Ezra starred at Eli. His face reddened uncomfortably.

"Did it occur to you that Vanto could have betrayed you by taking the charts to the Emperor and showing him the way into our regions?"

"Never," Thrawn said.

"Why not?"

"Because Commander Vanto is trustworthy," stated Thrawn. "I have worked with him for many years and know that he is incapable of betrayal. On more than one occasion he could have thwarted my Imperial career to advance his own but he did not."

"Hmm." Lord Nirasu's brow wrinkled. "Commander Vanto, please rise."

Ezra watched him reluctantly stand up. "You have heard the words of the accused. Does Mith'raw'nuruodo speak the truth?"

"Yes your excellency," Eli said in a weary voice.

"Then you never considered betraying Mith'raw'nuruodo?"

Eli looked uncomfortable. Then he confessed, "Just once."

"When?"

"Back when we were still cadets in the Imperial Academy on Coruscant." Eli coughed to clear his throat and then continued. "We were attacked by rivaling cadets and Mith'raw'nuruodo pushed me aside to protect me. I realized if he was injured seriously, he'd have to drop out of the Academy. I'd be free to go back to my supply officer track."

Eli sounded ashamed of himself. "It was a moment of weakness and I regret it."

"What did you do next?"

"I flung some gravel in the face of one attacker and he ran off. Some other cadets came onto the scene and our attackers fled."

"But you never made an affirmative action to jeopardize Mith'raw'nuruodo's career, did you?"

"No, Lord Nirasu."

"Thank you, Commander Vanto. You may sit down."

Eli did as instructed. Then it was Ezra's turn to stand up.

His own discussion with Lord Nirasu was longer and more complicated. As the Ascendency had been informed, Vanto had encountered Thrawn as a fellow Imperial officer while Bridger had met him as an enemy in a galactic war.

Eli was relieved that he was no longer the center of attention. He was also surprised and impressed with Ezra's performance. The young Jedi answered Lord Nirasu's questions frankly and clearly so that his words could not be misinterpreted.

No, he hadn't heard of Grand Admiral Thrawn until his Phoenix Squadron had established their own base. Yes, their first encounter was during a personal mission to obtain a family artifact for a friend. Yes, the Rebellion had sent out "Fulcrum" agents to gather intel but no, Ezra hadn't known their own Fulcrum agent was an Imperial officer named Alexsander Kallus until he had revealed himself.

Ezra proceeded to tell the Ascendency about the list of Thrawn's crimes: confiscating private property from the citizens of Lothal, forcing them to work in the factories against their will, endangering the lives of civilians, obliterating cargo ships instead of permitting them to surrender, and launching full-scale bombardments on public cities.

When he was done speaking Ezra watched Thrawn step forward to face the charges.

"Do you deny the actions that you have been accused of?" Lord Nirasu said.

Thrawn gave his answer in a single flawless note.

"No."

Lord Nirasu appeared unsatisfied. He returned to the dais to speak privately with the other Ascendency members for several moments. Then he returned to the podium and addressed Ezra.

"We hold Mith'raw'nuruodo's actions in disdain. However, since he pledged himself to follow the Empire's orders with the intentions of using their abilities to assist Csilla, we cannot hold him accountable for violating our laws."

A murmur of surprise rose up from the Ruling Members. Ar'alani uttered a few sharp words to quiet everyone down.

"But he didn't follow the Empire's orders," Ezra insisted. His voice echoed in the silent room.

Lord Nirasu jerked his head back to the Jedi. "What do you mean?"

"It's complicated," Ezra warned him.

"Please explain to the best of your abilities."

"All right." Ezra urged himself to straighten his spine as he continued.

"As you've heard me say, I.S.B. Agent Kallus became one of our Fulcrum agents. Mith'raw'nuruodo must have known he was a traitor but waited until the right opportunity to attack."

"Mith'raw'nuruodo, can you confirm Commander Bridger's words?"

"Yes, Lord Nirasu. I was aware of Kallus' betrayal to the Empire but permitted him to continue his service so that I could gain the location of the Phoenix Squadron's base."

Thrawn's confidence was precisely what Ezra needed. "Then Mith'raw'nuruodo also knows that Fulcrum listened to a private conversation between Grand Admiral Thrawn and Grand Moff Tarkin. The Grand Admiral was ready to launch a strike attack upon our Rebel base at Atallon. Tarkin agreed and ordered him to have our leaders captured alive to "show an example" to the galaxy.

"But once the transmission with Tarkin had been turned off, the grand admiral told everyone else in the room that he intended to obliterate the entire fleet."

A collective sound of disbelief filled the room. Ezra pressed on. "Fulcrum wasn't the only witness. I was with my team on Atallon when the grand admiral contacted us and said he was not interested in terms of surrender. He made it clear that he intended to annihilate all of us."

Upon hearing this, Ar'alani rose from her seat and joined Lord Nirasu at the podium. To Thrawn she said in a frigid voice, "Explain yourself."

"There is nothing to explain, Admiral Ar'alani. Commander Bridger has told you the truth."

"Why did you defy the orders of your superior officers? What did you intend to achieve by obliterating an entire enemy fleet?" she demanded harshly.

"I understand that my ambitions at the time appeared drastic," said Thrawn. "But considering the situation, Phoenix Squadron had escaped capture on several occasions. It would endanger my reputation as an Imperial grand admiral, therefore jeopardizing my fellow Chiss, to allow them to survive."

He shifted his eyes to Ezra and added, "And it would be hazardous to let the public know that Jedi were still alive after the Empire had confirmed they were extinct. They were too great of a threat to be allowed to survive."

"You would have terminated Commander Bridger? Sentence a youth of nineteen standard years to death?" Ar'alani nearly shouted.

"At the time, yes."

Thrawn lifted his gaze upwards and turned his head to speak to all the Ruling Family members. He drew himself up to his full height and spoke in a firm commanding voice. Despite being shackled and unarmed, he remained assertive as ever. In his voice was the resilience that Ezra now know could inspire others to follow Thrawn into battle.

"Some of you must consider me a murderer. A traitor. But I have tolerated humiliation, disgrace, and danger during my days in the Empire without betraying a single Chiss," he announced. "While you have remained in safe comfort here, I was taking affirmative action. Consider what limited options we have in our future before you decide how to end my existence. All I have done, every option I have calculated, was for the sake of all Chiss. To my accusers I have nothing more to add in my defense."

Thrawn sat back down in his chair. The Ascendency ceased the trial as they talked in low voices among themselves.

Ezra whispered to Eli out of the corner of his mouth. "What's the Chiss view on capital punishment?"

Eli wiped his brow with a handkerchief. "They find execution to be repugnant. Exile is the worst form of punishment. But considering Thrawn's past…." Eli let the sentence trail off.

After nearly half an hour, the council restored with their case. Lord Nirasu placed both hands on the podium and addressed everyone.

"Members of the Ruling Family and fellow officers, the Ascendency has come to a verdict. We find Mith'raw'nuruodo guilty of defying the orders of the Chiss Defense Fleet, endangering his cover, acting without approval of the council, and intentionally causing the unnecessary loss of life in battle."

Eli closed his eyes and dropped his head to his chest.

"However, his crimes were not directed towards the people of Csilla. Nor were they intended for the Galactic Empire. The one he has faulted is Commander Ezra Bridger of the Alliance to Restore the Republic." Lord Nirasu gestured to Ezra.

"Therefore, the Ascendency has decided that you will choose his sentence. Exile has been considered the uttermost disgrace. And capital punishment has not been used for centuries. But if you can provide a logical explanation for why Mith'raw'nuruodo is deserving of death, we agree to his immediate termination."

The breath was instantly knocked out of Eli's chest. He gripped his kneecaps with sweaty palms, starring at Ezra along with every other person in the room.

"I understand, Lord Nirasu," the young Jedi said in a soft but firm voice. "I have considered his punishment ever since knowing my presence here today was mandatory."

"Then you have already chosen a sentence?"

Ezra Bridger nodded. "Yes, I have."

"Tell us what it is."

Eli could barely breathe. His lungs contacted and he hoped no one else could hear the deep thumping of blood within his ears. He watched Ezra slowly walk towards the dais, his human eyes sweeping over the rows of Ruling Families, resting upon Thrawn for a moment, and then facing the Ascendency. When he spoke it was in a grave but confident voice without regret.

Mith'raw'nuruodo is indeed guilty. And since he shows no remorse for his actions, I know justice must prevail. Therefore I ask that the Ascendency to sentence him to….."

Eli Vanto's entire body froze up and Kyler leaned as far out of his seat as possible.

"….life imprisonment," finished Ezra.

Eli all but collapsed upon himself in relief. He continued to wipe beads of sweat off his face as Ezra explained.

"You have heard Mith'raw'nuruodo testify that his intentions were for the benefit of his people, even at the risk of sacrificing other worlds in place of Csilla. Therefore, his people must become his guardians."

The young Jedi's voice grew steadier. "This is not intended to be an act of kindness. He is to be stripped of all military rankings and honors. Mith'raw'nurodo must never again serve in the fleet, hold any form of office, or command a military ship. He must remain on Csilla the rest of his life. No weapons will be provided for him and if he attempt to procure one, he will be held under tighter supervision."

Lord Nirasu's expression showed surprise and then firmness. He seemed relieved with Ezra's answer.

"Your proposal is sound, Commander Bridger. The Ascendency agrees to your terms and will have Mith'raw'nuruodo transferred to a maximum security prison for the remainder of his life."

He gestured to the Ruling Families. "Can anyone here protest this outsider's judgement?"

Not a single Chiss spoke out against him.

"Then by the sacred laws of Csilla and the judgement of the Ascendency, we sentence Mith'raw'nuruodo to life imprisonment."

He gestured to the guards who were at Thrawn's side in a heartbeat. They pinned his hands behind his back, fitted them with new braces, and led him out of the room. Never once did he face show a hint of fear or concern. Nor did he look at Eli or Ezra.

The young Jedi had already returned to his seat to see Eli in front of him. Eli clasped a hand on Ezra's shoulder, his terrified face finally calming down.

"Thank you," he murmured. Something wet glistened in the corners of Eli's eyes. "Thank you, Ezra."

To this Ezra had no idea of what do say. "You're welcome"? "I'm sorry"? "I did only what a Jedi could"?

He chose not to say anything at all and just nodded knowingly to Eli. Eli dropped his hand away and went to speak to Admiral Ar'alani.

Other Chiss rose to leave and Kyler swiftly descended the steps so as not to get crushed by the crowd. He almost lost Ezra who had quietly slipped out of a side door but managed to catch up with him.

"Ezra," he called out, slowing his run down when he was eye-to-eye with the Jedi.

"That was remarkable," he said at last.

The Jedi shook his head sadly at Kyler.

"Would it help if we did some sparring together?"

"Thanks, Kyler. But I need some time alone."

Much to Ezra's relief, Kyler did not appear insulted. He nodded politely to Ezra. "Of course. Take all the time you need."

A-A-A

Back in the privacy of his room, Ezra kicked off his boots and flopped onto his bed. He sighed aloud and closed his eyes. He was physically and emotionally drained out from carrying on in front of the Chiss.

"I did it, Kanan," he said aloud. "I did what I had to do."

At least he had done something right, or at least as close to right could be in dark and difficult times. Mith'raw'nuruodo would live after all. But for a warrior, a life spent away from the battlefield was a tedious one. He would watch others go into battle while he would be restrained and confined from that opportunity. That was what the Force had told Ezra: that this blue-skinned man would have only himself and his pride to rely upon until he could come to terms with his errors.

So the Ascendency was satisfied, Eli was relieved, and Ezra remained in the junior fleet.

" _Then why am I not happy?"_ he thought. Maybe this wasn't about his own feelings in the end. Maybe it wasn't about anyone's feelings. It was about which actions did the most good and least harm, regardless of who was satisfied or displeased. Everyone had a personal sacrifice to make.

It was a humbling thought.

He let the lesson linger in the air until Ezra lightly dozed off. He dreamed of nothing and no one until a face flashed before him like an ember flaring within a fire.

The Daughter's dazzling green eyes were before him and she shouted, " _Go_!"

Ezra bolted up in bed.

"What?" he blurted out, looking around his room. She wasn't here. Had he just dreamed her up? He nearly fell back against his pillow when her voice vibrated again from inside his head.

" _Save them!"_ she cried out.

"Save who? What!?" Ezra shouted back. Suddenly he began coughing, feeling his lungs burn as though they were filling with water. It passed after a moment but he was startled by the dangerous sensation that had briefly overtaken him.

The Force was trying to tell him something. But instead of closing his eyes and remaining still, Ezra got up and put his boots on while listening to the warning humming around him.

Someone was in danger, someone close. But this one he could save if he acted fast.

"I understand," he said as he threw on his heavy parka. "Don't worry. I'll find them."

He rushed out the door and dashed off to find the nearest speeder.


	6. Chapter 6

_Csilla, Alpha Terrain_

A silvery drop of water clung onto the end of a stalactite. It shivered in place for a moment and then released itself into the grotto's lake. It hit the surface and released a tinny sound into the air.

Ashray barely noticed it. She picked up another stone that lay on the ground and pushed it into her already-bulging pockets. By now her dress was so heavy she could only take tiny steps forward. She almost sighed aloud but restrained herself. It may have been a brief and shameful life but at least she would not be a burden to her people any longer.

She thought of Ezra Bridger and found herself smiling unintentionally. Ashray hoped he would have a kind memory of her. Perhaps not. She bitterly remembered the frosty treatment she had given Ezra when they first met. Now Ashray felt shame for considering herself superior to an outsider like him. In spite of his treatment as an outcast, he had held his ground within the fleet and earned respect from his fellow officers.

Ashray was certain Ezra Bridger was a unique man who would find his place in the universe. But now it was time to put away her place at last.

There was one last thing to do. Ashray picked up the knife she had brought along and flipped it open. With one hand she twisted her long black hair into a single rope and with the other, used the knife to hack off her hair in two swift strokes.

She felt a puff of cool air against the back of her bare neck and looked down to see the loose locks were already slipping through her fingers. Ashray opened her hand all the way and let the hair land on the ground in a dark silky pool.

Ashray ran her fingers through her newly-shorn hair that ended just below her ears. She felt naked.

She placed the knife on the ground and began to approach the lake with her stone-laden dress. When the lukewarm waters touched the hem of her dress it instantly soaked her up the knees. She continued forward with small steady paces even as her heart was thumping with trepidation. The water began to encompass her legs, then her waist, and finally her chest.

When it reached her shoulders Ashray closed her eyes and slid in as far as she could go. The stones would prevent buoyancy and she would soon slip away from this world into the next one. Resting there in the lake buried beneath its surface, she willed herself to let her mind slip away even as Ashray's lungs began to burn with discomfort.

That was the challenge of being Chiss. Their biological construction made them more resilient than other beings in the galaxy; she could withstand the lack of oxygen somewhat longer than that of a human being by a few minutes. But this matter of time would make no difference in the end results. Her blood circulation would swiftly be cut off from the lungs. Then the deprivation of air would charge the blood and damage the arteries-

No, she shouldn't think about that. It would frighten her back to the surface.

" _Think about something else. The way the moons reflect in the pools in the Atrium. The lavender glow in the clouds when ships take off at sunset. The sound of wind roaring outside when you're falling asleep safe in your bed. The color of the Jedi's eyes that brightens when he smiles—"_

Ashray's thoughts were shattered when something in the water vibrated next to her. She opened her eyes and was hit with the sour sting of the mineral waters as she tried to see through the opaqueness before her. She felt two hands encircle her waist and then they tried to pull her up in jerky movements. Panic seized Ashray and she thrashed in a frenzy. She tried to say something but it came out of her mouth in a stream of muffled bubbles.

Then she felt the _rrrrrip-rip-rip_ of her dress being slashed above the knee.

Curses! She shouldn't have left that knife behind!

The last of the dress was cut away and the stones sank to the bottom of the lake. The arms now hoisted Ashray under her chest but she was already floating back to the surface as light as a bubble. The sound of two heads crashing through the water broke through the grotto's serenity. Ashray tread in place while her intruder hacked and snorted to clear his nose and lungs. Then he also began pumping his limbs through the water.

"What do you think you're doing!?" Ezra shouted. His hair was slicked off his damp face and his eyes were blazing at her. He looked furious, beautiful, and terrifying all at once to Ashray. Ezra didn't give her a chance to answer because he had swam over to her and looped his arms around Ashray's chest. Ezra proceeded to bring both of them to shore.

By now Ashray was also coughing from the irritation that burned in her lungs. When she could speak again they were already waist-deep in the lake. Ezra wrapped one of her hands around his shoulders and without another word, hoisted Ashray up into his arms.

Her face flushed with humiliation. How could he carry a Chiss woman around as though she was a rucksack?! It was not done!

"Put me down!" Ashray demanded.

Ezra stared into her face. "No," he said in a calm but eerie voice. That stilled her into silence.

Meekly, Ashray allowed him to carry her the rest of the way until they were safe back on the edge of the lake. Then he set her down upon the pebbled beach.

"Why did you do it, Ashray?"

Now that he said it, Ashray felt ridiculous. She drew her knees into her chest and squeezed them tightly. Ezra patiently waited for her to answer.

When Ashray spoke her words they were heavy and coarse as clay in her mouth. "The Fourth Ruling Family decided not to adopt me," she spoke at last.

His eyes widened and he appeared taken aback. Then Ezra asked, "It's not because we kissed, is it?"

Ashray's pains were briefly distracted by his question. "Oh no, Ezra. I never told anyone about us," she assured him quickly. Then she lowered her head and said, "It's just something that did not work out."

"Did they say why?"

"They don't need a reason to do so," she said bitterly. Ashray wiped a strand of wet hair out of her face. "It's all a matter of what benefits the Ruling Families."

Ashray squeezed her eyelids shut. She could feel tears trying to leak out of them and she forced them back down. "For years I have followed their customs and orders, doing everything that was asked of me. Now I am a failure to my people."

Her melodious voice broke like a crack in a piece of glass. "I have no future. Nothing to gain in my life."

Ezra's muscles tightened within his soaking clothes. He could have rattled off every one of his hardships towards Ashray and told her that her own problems were nothing compared to his own. He could have taunted her, rebuked her, and scolded her for thinking that taking her own life would have solved all her problems.

What was her adversity compared to his own? He had lost his parents, watched his master die in a burst of flames, disappeared from his new family, and been flung to the edges of the galaxy.

But that was not the way of the Jedi. Nor was it the way of Ezra Bridger. He knew that this was not his trial to overcome; it was Ashray's. And she was struggling with it as much as he had struggled with all of his tribulations. He would not let her continue despising herself.

Ezra sank onto the pebbles next to her. "It's a terrible feeling, isn't it? You watch everything you value in your life get snatched from you," he said gently. "And you feel lost. Abandoned. Like you're floating in space without a purpose."

She turned to him and nodded. "Yes. That's exactly how I feel." Another crack in the glass. Ashray confessed quietly, "And I'm frightened, Ezra. I don't know what to do."

Ezra reached out to her and clasped his hands around those of the Chiss woman. "You fight, Ashray. You fight to live as hard as you can," he said.

"But I am not a Jedi like you, Ezra," protested Ashray. "I don't know how to overcome the struggle within myself."

"Ashray," he murmured. Ezra let go of her wrist, only to cup her face into his hands. He drew her towards him until their foreheads were touching. Ashray's chest swelled with peculiar emotions as he held her close to him and she could hear the sound of his voice hovering over her.

"I've felt the pain of a world destroyed, Ashray. There's so much light that's been already been lost from the galaxy. Please don't end the light within yourself," Ezra begged. "You are a Chiss, a woman from a lineage of proud warriors. You have everything you need already within you. All you have to do is reach inside and use it."

She tipped her head up to him, a flutter of light passing through her eyes. "How?" she whispered.

"Keep trying. Keep moving. Every day you get up and face the world with everything you've got," he spoke passionately. "If it's strength you need, I'll share mine with you. If one of the Ruling Families doesn't want to accept you then find a way to prove yourself to another ruling family. Apply to the science fleet or the Ascendancy itself.

"But don't you dare think for one moment your life has lost value because you didn't get what you wanted. No matter how far away and lost you feel, the Force will always be there to guide you back. It is around and within all of us, waiting for us to seek it out."

Their heads parted slightly as Ezra's words sank into her. "You say these things because you know them. You have been through them," Ashray suggested.

Ezra nodded in agreement. They sat there on the bank closely to one another and for several moments, nothing else was said between them.

Ashray rubbed one of her arms and then asked, "It is not easy to find the light again, is it?"

"No, Ashray. I'll admit it isn't. But I can promise you that is is worth seeking it out every day."

She gazed back out at the lake and then at the blue-eyed man beside her. Ashray let Ezra's words carefully rest before her and she permitted them to sink in, accepting them and letting them illuminate her thoughts.

Finally she said, "If you believe I am still worthy of living then I must make my life better for both of us."

Ezra looked at her with relief. "Then you'll come back with me?"

She managed to smile faintly at him. "For you, I feel as though I could capture a star."

Grateful to hear her words, Ezra held her by the shoulders and brought Ashray towards him again. He kissed her hard on the mouth, a kiss that was full of gratitude and relief that she was still here, living and breathing in this world. Ashray returned his kiss by putting her arms around his neck and securing their embrace, not wanting to let go of this glowing sensation that flowed through her body. When their lips parted, Ezra felt Ashray drop her head against his shoulder as he continued to hold her tightly against him.

Ashray mumbled something into his chest. "What was that?" asked Ezra.

She drew her head back enough to say, "I said I don't know what's sweeter; your words or your kisses."

He laughed briefly. "Thanks. But do you know what else would be sweet right now?"

"What?"

"Warm honey on hot toast."

"That does sound nice. I am feeling hungry too."

"Then let's get out of here."

Ashray let the young Jedi pull her to her feet and then was dumbstruck when Ezra placed his dry jacket around her shoulders. "Take it back. You need it more than I do," she offered. "You'll be shivering within minutes."

"I'm fine," he assured her. He put an arm around her shoulders and offered her his hand. Ashray studied it for a moment and then slid her hand into his, gratefully accepting his offer.

Her life would be an uphill battle going forward. But it wouldn't be the futile venture as she thought it would be. Perhaps if she applied herself as well as Ezra suggested, Ashray could find a new goal to puruse. Perhaps one's life could be all the better for knowing a Jedi.

They had gone about twenty paces when Ezra slowed himself down. Ashray stopped to remain by his side. "What is it?" she asked. Surely he didn't want to stay a moment longer, not when there was good food and dry clothes waiting for them back in the city.

He didn't look at her. Instead, Ezra turned back around and starred hard at the lake. Ashray felt his hand slip out of hers and instantly grew concerned. He walked several steps back towards the lake, never taking his eyes off it, as if entranced by a vision Ashray could not see.

"Ezra?"

He glanced back over his shoulder at Ashray. "Stay here. I'll be back soon." His eyes glowed as he added, "I promise."

Ezra started walking, then running, until he reached the edge of the lake. Ashray was mortified when he thrust his hands together over his head and plunged like a knife back beneath the waters.

What could have possessed him to do that?! Should she go after him?

"Ezra?" she called his name. Ashray attempted to control herself, to remember that Ezra had just said he would come back. Surely he wouldn't tell her all about protecting her life only to throw his own away…would he?

She started back at the faint ripples of the lake to where he had just disappeared. Who knew all of the peculiar habits of a Jedi?

Ashray counted to twenty. Then all of her worries tipped forward and she panicked. "Ezra!" she screamed out.

This time Ashray raced back to the lake and wadded in up to her ankles. She said his name over and over again but the lake's surface barely moved.

Ashray wadded in further until she was up to her knees in water. She steeled herself to jump back in again when she saw bubbles form on the surface of the lake. A few seconds later Ezra's head popped out. He spit water out of his mouth and was laughing aloud so that his voice rang out around them.

"It's okay!" he called cheerily to Ashray, waving a fist above his head. "Everything's okay! I was wrong, Ashray. I was never so right about wrong before."

"Right about what?" she shouted to him as he swam back to her. How dare Ezra Bridger give her a fright! She didn't know whether to kiss him again or smack him senseless.

He was getting closer now, still swimming with one fist closed up. "It's not just where they appear but _when_! Now I know it couldn't have happened at any other time."

Perhaps he was going mad. All this stress and swimming could be making him delirious. She must contact Doctor Mikh'al as soon as possible.

But when Ezra waded through the water and joined her on the shore she saw his face was calm and bright. There were thin cracks of light seeping out from between his clenched fingers.

Ezra unfolded his fingers for Ashray to see what he had been holding. Gazing down into his palm, she was bewildered by his findings.

There in his hand, half-hidden in the mud and gravel Ezra had seized from the bottom of the lake, lay two small blue-white gems. They were not the polished cut jewels Ashray had seen formed by craftsmen. These were raw misshapen stones. Yet they sparkled like freshly-minted stars and radiated such a brilliant light that Ashray could see blue and white rays leaping up across the walls of the grotto. Even more remarkable was the aura emulating from Ezra's beaming face. It was as though these two tiny gems were enlivening him with such joy that Ashray found herself smiling back at him.

"What are they?" she asked him.

He looked from the stones into her face. Within his eyes was something that left Ashray breathless.

"Hope," Ezra said.

A-A-A

 _2 hours later:_

Thanks to the speeder and some discreet doors, Ezra and Ashray returned to the compound without causing too much attention to themselves. Everybody else was still much preoccupied with the trial and the junior fleet had not resumed classes yet.

Ashray delayed long enough to take Genet back to her room so that Ezra could focus on his upcoming task. She gave him one quick but genuine kiss on the cheek and then went to her rooms with the tooka to bathe and change in dry clothes.

Ezra sat on the floor of his room with the box of collected pieces on his left and the kyber crystals on his right.

Now was the time the Force had guided him to their song. Now was the time he must let it guide him to their purpose.

The Force flew through his veins like warm spring rivers breaking free from winter's embrace. It streamed across his limbs, filling his body with the tingling sensations of wonder from the tips of his fingers down into his toes. Through his eyes were closed, Ezra could feel the weight of the metal pieces and imagine their different shapes and sizes as they rose out of the box and rotated through the air.

Ezra thought not of the lightsaber he wanted to see, but imagined how it would feel properly within his hand.

He envisioned the carbon insulater sliding effortlessly into the weapon's handle and then a power cell would drop three quarters of the way into the handle. A small gap would exist between the end of the power cell and the hilt of the lightsaber as a safe energy cushion. His fingers danced through the air as five wires twined themselves around the modulation circuits that would permit the lightsaber's blade to extend in a single beam of light. An unexpected squeaking sound of two unintended two metal bits colliding interrupted Ezra's mediation. Something had interfered with the energy adjuster.

 _"Why do I need another power cell?"_ he thought. The lightsaber parts hovered in midair, sensing Ezra's concern. They began to ebb apart but then hung in motion as he cleared the doubt away, brushing it off like a gray cloud. If another power cell was needed, so be it. He let the second one across the lightsaber's shell and land on the opposite side. With a wave of Ezra's left fingers, three ring flanges rotated themselves into the lightsaber to protect the second power cell.

Now it was becoming clearer in his thoughts and his message to the Force mingled with the lightsaber. Ezra reached out to it and let it sweep over his body.

 _"I am Ezra Bridger. I am the Guardian of Lothal and the Bridge-Maker. Show me how I can fulfill my destiny in the Living Force,"_ he prayed.

 _"Show me the lightsaber that can aid me in healing this damaged galaxy. Show me the blade to be a defender of light and the stronghold against darkness."_

At long last the crystals rose from the ground. With the softest of touches, Ezra allowed them to rest delicately in their protective chambers within the lightsaber. He opened his eyes to see it hovering three feet off the ground. The ring flanges rotated one last time and then the last of the pieces clicked together. The lightsaber hovered in the air a moment longer before landing in Ezra's lap.

He picked it up and got to his feet. It didn't look like any other saber he had used before. This wasn't the single cylinder but rather, two smaller cylinders fitted side-by-side. Instead of a perfect circular metal ring where the light came out of one end, both ends of the weapon split apart to create four smooth arcs of metal. Ezra's fingers run up and down the weapon.

Had he done something wrong? Did he misinterpret the Force?

Looking closer, he recognized the basic structure of the torch beams in the lightsaber's foundation. Some leftover nuts and bolts still lay in the box; items no longer necessary for this task. No, he had not gotten it wrong. This was the lightsaber he was intended to use. He must trust the Force to show him how.

Ezra gripped the lightsaber in his right hand. Infused with the confidence that he had put his faith into the Force, a fresh surge of energy streamed from his hand all the way up to his arm. He extended his hand outward and turned the lightsaber upright. Ezra's thumb hovered over the button and he was about to turn it on when he felt, rather than heard, a familiar voice speak from within him.

 _"Open it."_

Ezra's heart burst into a pounding drum. " _Kanan_?" he thought. That unforgettable sound, the steadfast voice of his master vibrated through him. Now it was waiting for Ezra's response. He answered by giving off a sharp flick of his wrist. Ezra watched the two lightsaber pieces snap together, fusing into a single pole.

 _"Now turn it around,"_ Kanan guided Ezra.

Ezra cautiously rotated the blade from horizontal to a vertical position. He could sense Kanan's approval and now his permission to complete the final task.

 _"Ignite the blade."_

The apprentice brought his thumb to the control and pressed it firmly down upon the button. Ezra watched in disbelief as twin shafts of golden light burst forth out of the blades-both of them-one running skyward and the other downward towards the floor.

He starred in gaping awe at the brilliant lightsaber in his hand, a double-bladed sword shining with yellow rays. Now he knew from Kanan's teachings that this was the lightsaber he was meant to have on Csilla.

It was the lightsaber of a temple guard.

A-A-A

 _Later:_

The rooms housing Mith'raw'nuruodo were not typical prison cells.

They were spacious and comfortable with separate areas for sleeping, eating, and working. The refresher provided ample hot and cold water. A desk and data-computer had been provided for him, along with a training room where he might exercise to keep himself in excellent health. There was even a balcony with a tiny enclosed garden for his recreation.

All of these privileges could not distract the fact that he remained a prisoner. Thrawn knew that every piece of data he entered into his computer was being fed back into the security databanks by the Ascendency. All of the rooms had cameras that tracked his movements. His eating and cooking utensils were dulled and made of materials that he could not forge into weapons. Unlike the assassin droids and metal pikes he had used aboard the Chiamera, none of the equipment in the prisoner's training room used electrical power.

Most noticeable of all was the location of his quarters. Cemented into the ground floor of the compound, Thrawn had an excellent view of the ships and carriers that traveled around Csilla and the skyscrapers rising powerfully up above his head.

It was meant to be a constant reminder of the liberties he had lost.

So be it.

In the last few weeks Thrawn had used the data computer and endless sheets of paper to his advantage. Possessing the gift of a nearly-photographic memory, he was busying himself by writing down everything he had learned and then securing it into data tapes. Aside from the lessons of charts and strategies, there was also the imaginative creation of all of the art Thrawn had collected and observed during his Imperial career.

So when he was informed that Commander Bridger requested permission to visit him, Thrawn did not bother to remove the holographic images he had been recreating from his memories. He was intrigued to see how the Jedi would respond.

Ezra stepped into the airy living room and looked around at the blue images hovering on the walls. "It looks like an art gallery to me," he said to Thrawn. "Were all of these pieces from your collection?"

"Most of them," Thrawn said. He rose from his chair and nodded formally to Ezra. "Some were items I saw in museums and Imperial archives. I am recreating them to the best of my knowledge from memory."

He saw Ezra's gaze rest upon a replica of Hera Syndulla's kalikori. The young Jedi frowned, which was understandable giving the circumstances behind that heirloom's story. To his credit, Ezra said nothing and smoothed his face out.

Thrawn pushed a button on his monitor and all of the images disappeared. "To what do I owe the honor of your visit?"

"I came to see how you are holding up."

The Chiss gestured around the room. "As you can see, my sentence is a benevolent one. My fellow Chiss have assured me that if there is anything I lack, I may ask for it as long as it does not conflict with my imprisonment. On that topic, I have a favor to ask of you."

"What's that?"

Thrawn gestured to a tiled board of gray-and-silver squares that rested on a small table. "If you have some time, I have been waiting for an opportunity to teach you a game of strategy," he explained.

Ezra examined the checkered board and then slid into one of the chair around the table. Thrawn took his place in the other chair. "I presume you have played Dejarik before?"

The Jedi nodded, almost smirking by instinct. "Dozens of times on the Ghost. Nobody could beat Captain Rex."

"This is a variation of the same game that Palpatine was interested in," explained Thrawn. "But in Shah-tezh, each of the pieces has a specific role and maneuver across the board. This board is referred to as the _demesne_."

"I see." Ezra looked up at Thrawn. "Are we going to play now?"

"Soon. First you must understand each piece's function."

Ezra noticed that half of the small figures were made of carved green wood and the other half were orange. Thrawn selected an orange piece and after a moment of contemplation, offered it to Ezra. Noticing the Chiss' attention to his favorite color, Ezra accepted it and studied the piece. It was an angular figurine in hooded robes, not unlike Palpatine himself.

"The Imperator," said Thrawn. "All pieces exist to protect it. If the Imperator falls, the game instantly ends."

He placed his own green hooded figure in a square. Ezra did the same on his own end of the board. Thrawn held up another piece. This figurine was stout and held an open scroll between his hands. "The Counselor can only move on a diagonal but has no limit as to how far he can travel."

A third followed. Ezra thought the piece's tiny bearded face resembled Kanan but it was adorned with chest plating instead of shoulder armor.

"The Crafter," Thrawn continued. "This piece can move two steps in any direction."

"So he had limited distance but freedom of movement," Ezra suggested. "While the Counselor has unlimited range but restricted movement."

The corners of the Chiss' mouth curled up with approval. "Excellent. You are paying attention."

Other pieces followed: the Baroness, the Patron, the Navigator, and the Water-bearer, which was a feminine feature holding a jug to her tiny but well-defined bosom. Ezra watched Thrawn define each piece and then repeated back what the Chiss said before placing his own figurines on the demesne.

"The Outcast," Thrawn concluded. He held up a green piece of a figure with one arm raised upwards holding a slender pointed weapon. To Ezra it could have been bearing a spear, staff, or lightsaber.

"The Emperor chose to omit the Outcast from Shah-tezh. He said it was too anarchic to use."

Thrawn was about to place the Outcast back in the box when Ezra insisted, "Leave it in the game. We're all outcasts at some time in our lives."

"Very well." Thrawn instructed him where to place the Outcast and the game began. Ezra quickly lost two of pieces to Thrawn, who pointed out his weaknesses. He offered a counter-attack that Ezra used in his next movement, gaining him Thrawn's Crafter.

"I see you are using your Outcast more than any other piece," Thrawn noted.

"It's got a handsome face," Ezra remarked. He moved the tiny statue four tiles over, blocking Thrawn's Patron.

"Temporary but effective," declared the Chiss. "A pity you do not apply yourself in real life as well as you do in Shah-tezh."

Ezra glanced at him from over the board. "Because I spared your life?"

"Be mindful of distractions," Thrawn cautioned him. "The slightest alteration of one's fate may bring chaos to all those around him." His fingers nimbly captured Ezra's Water-bearer and he placed her on the marbled surface of the table.

"Are we talking about Shah-tezh or the Ascendency?"

Only now did the Chiss lift his gaze from the board up to Ezra. "Both."

Ezra leaned back in his seat. "I can tell the difference between a game and a matter of life-and-death."

"There is no difference," murmured Thrawn. He moved his Imperator forward, knocking over another of Ezra's pieces. "All that matters is victory."

"Does victory include expecting a Jedi to be predictable?" Ezra demanded.

Hearing his words quoted back caused Thrawn to straighten up in his chair. "You are attempting to provoke me with mimics. But you would do better to apply my advice to your own challenges."

"I have," said the Jedi calmly. "I came here to tell you why I made the decision I did before the Ascendency."

Thrawn rested his chin between laced fingers. "Go on."

"In the end it came down to what you told me on Lothal. After surrendering myself, you said I chose what was morally correct instead of what was strategically sound. At your trial, I chose to do both."

"How so?"

"Keeping you alive benefits everyone. I had three outcomes to consider." Ezra held up one index finger. "The first outcome is that Csilla continues to exist securely in this part of the galaxy. I know it's inevitable that the Vagaari will try to attack your domains again. But if they try to do so, your knowledge about the TIE defenders can be used by fellow Chiss protect their borders."

A pleased expression crossed Thrawn's face. "What are the other two scenarios?"

Ezra held up two more fingers. "The worst and best case outcomes. Worst scenario, the Empire find a way into the Unknown Regions and invades Csilla. You know about their strengths and weaknesses from working on the inside of the Imperial Navy. I know how to take them down from the outside. The Chiss Defense Fleet may stand a chance with a former grand admiral and a Jedi fighting among them."

"The best outcome is that the Empire is defeated before that can happen." Ezra lifted his chin defiantly. "When that day comes, I am taking you back to Mon Mothma and her council to face justice for your infliction upon the Empire's victims."

"That may be difficult considering my life-sentence here on Csilla," Thrawn commented cordially.

"But not impossible. I'll just have to earn the Ascendency's confidence so they will release you into my custody."

Thrawn appeared satisfied and touched a hand to his chin. "You have learned well from your time here, Commander Bridger."

"I learned from my master," Ezra corrected him.

For a moment Thrawn said nothing. Then he asked, "Was it true that 'Kanan Jarrus' was his alias?"

"He said he was born with the name Caleb Dume."

"And this secret identify does not disturb you?"

Ezra swiftly captured Thrawn's Patron piece. "Kanan had a hard past. I'm sure he decided to keep secrets to protect himself and all of us. I trusted him to the end."

He glanced across the table to Thrawn. "What I'd like to know is what General Skywalker was like before he became Darth Vader."

Thrawn examined his options on the board and then looked back at Ezra. "He was a most courageous and cunning warrior. A maverick among the Jedi but an effective leader all the same. Why do you make that face?"

Ezra realized he had been frowning from Thrawn's words. "Ahsoka said the same thing."

"Ahsoka Tano. His former apprentice, correct?"

"Yes. She told agreed that he was a great warrior but said that his greatest quality was his compassion. Ahsoka said he was kind to all of his friends and cared about them."

"Perhaps her experience being his apprentice gave her a unique perspective."

"Ahsoka is an excellent judge of character," Ezra announced. He set down his next piece with more firmness than usual, aware that Thrawn was attempting to find a sensitive topic to provoke him.

"And do you still consider empathy to be a strength rather than a weakness?"

Ezra paused before answering the question. "I've learned it can inspire you to fight harder to protect the people that matter to you. But it can also cloud your judgement and drive you to do things that you regret someday."

He fixed his steady blue gaze upon the Chiss and said, "That's something we have in common."

"On that I disagree, Commander Bridger. Remorse restrains a fighter's full capacity. I am fully aware of the losses one takes in battle but does not prevent me from taking affirmative action. Nor do I have regrets for my decisions."

"I think you do," Ezra said quietly but firmly. "I think you've never forgiven yourself for losing your brother."

Something stirred in Thrawn's eyes; a flash of heat that cautioned Ezra he had spoken beyond his scope. Thrawn's fingers hovered over his next piece but he did not take his gaze off of Ezra. His expression did not alter even as his voice dropped to a soft dangerous tone.

"Chose your next words carefully, Jedi."

Ezra did so, keeping his voice steady and frank.

"I know what it is to lose family. You blame yourself for the loss and then punish yourself for not being strong enough. Then you harness that rage and channel it into an energy that empowers you to fight back. You swear you won't let another calamity happen again.

"But you can't control the future, no matter how hard you resist it. And while you keep forcing everything and everyone around you bend to your will, that hatred becomes a poison slowly consuming your soul."

Ezra felt his voice waver with empathy. "I am sorry for what happened to Mith'ras'saffis."

Thrawn's next piece made a sharp clacking sound against the board. "You did not know him," he spoke in a frigid voice.

"But I know you." The Jedi straightened up in his chair. "I'm convinced you still try to make up for his loss. You may be the galaxy's greatest strategist but even you can't bring him back."

"How perceptive. If I wanted a psychologist, I would have asked for Doctor Mikh'al's services." Thrawn's eyes narrowed into red slits. "Using my deceased brother's name to incite me is deceptive. But you are not worthy to speak his name."

Ezra shook his head and looked sad. "It was never my intention to deceive you. But you'll never change, Mith'raw'nurodo. You may continue to grow stronger, smarter, and even a greater warrior than General Skywalker ever was. But I doubt you'll ever change your character. And for that you may never learn to understand the Force or gain the true gifts of the Jedi."

The red eyes glowed at Ezra. "Knowledge?"

"Wisdom. Humility. Compassion."

Thrawn's angular face hardened. "And for my lack of those qualities you continue to despise me."

Ezra starred at his enemy from across the table and then shook his head. "I don't hate you anymore. I pity you."

The young Jedi rose from his chair and removed something that had been tucked into the back of his tunic. He flipped open the lightsaber and turned it on so that the glowing yellow light was but inches from Thrawn's face.

The Chiss' eyes widened in surprise briefly before his expression steadied out again. "So you are empowered at last," he said softly. "And now you can rightfully take your revenge."

"I could," Ezra agreed as the blade hovered and hummed over the table. "I could strike you down in one blow and claim you tried to assault me and escape."

Then he drew back the lightsaber, clasped it in both hands, and turned it off. "But I won't," the young Jedi concluded. He slipped his weapon back into his belt.

"Sometimes even a great warrior has to know when to fight and when to cease. When his enemies are more use to him alive than dead. And that there's more to the galaxy than the role of a single person.

"But here's my final warning," Ezra cautioned him. "If you try to manipulate the Ascendency or rejoin the Empire I won't hold back a second time."

The Chiss observed him thoughtfully. "I can see that we may never accept each other's principles. But there is one thing that we can agree upon."

"And what's that?"

Thrawn pushed back his chair and rose to his feet. "Caleb Dume taught you well." He tilted his chin and added, "You know that when I said he died for nothing, it was not my intention to inflict further pain upon you."

"I know that now. You were trying to get me riled up to take action," said Ezra. "That's why you humiliated me in the dojo too, right?"

"Precisely. Your ability to hold your ground against me should solidify your place in the Chiss Defense Fleet."

Ezra looked taken aback. "So all this time I was just a pawn in your game? Waiting to be placed in the right position to protect Csilla?"

"If so, what do you intend to do about it?"

Ezra fingered his lightsaber. "I plan to make the most of my situation. As you said before, I can't return to my part of the galaxy right now. Nor can I face Vader alone or the Emperor again. The best thing I can do is preserve some peace in the universe. If that means serving the Chiss, I accept it."

Thrawn remained silent. He examined the chrono on the wall and Ezra knew it meant their meeting was almost over before the guards returned to escort himself away.

"I am aware that you have never sought my trust nor do you seek it now," Thrawn said. "But know this, Ezra Bridger. You have earned my respect as well as my approval. That is not something I grant often to others."

He pressed a palm into his left fist and bowed his head to Ezra. The young Jedi was taken aback by the gesture. He knew fully well that this warrior had talked down and humiliated him on numerous occasions, declaring Ezra an ill-suited Jedi and inexperienced child. Yet now here he was, lowering his head in capitulation to Ezra.

The young Jedi had won a victory not on the battlefield or in the war room, but within the eyes of an adversary.

Ezra knew that he could not overlook Thrawn's transgressions. Nor should he consider the Chiss a comrade in arms. But he would accept Thrawn's gesture and did so by inclining his head politely to Thrawn. The silence between them was the moment of a ceasefire between two soldiers who lowered their arms on the battlefield.

One warrior of fire, ice, and spirit. Another of two moons, stardust, and the Force.

They said nothing as the doors opened and the guards escorted Ezra out of the room. Alone again, Thrawn clasped his hands together and stood by the window, admiring the cruisers and fleet ships that soared high above him. He smiled to himself.

Yes, it was a tactical place to reside. Here he could keep an eye on all Chiss activities. Here his ears could be open and attentive, listening to any whispers and doubts that may seep into the Ascendency and then report any insubordination to Admiral Ar'alani. He might be sequestered away from the public eye but there was a remarkable young Jedi who would do a great service to his people.

Thrawn went to his desk and continued writing in his journal.

A-A-A

 _The Chiss Ascendency, Central Gathering Hall_

Ezra's next stop would not be one of formality or protocol. He would have to be brash for the sake of a greater truce. So without permission or request, he ignored the security officers guarding the hall and strode forward into the room.

Admiral Ar'alani, Lord Nirasu, and other Chiss were seated around a circular table but rose when they saw Ezra stride towards them. He drew out his lightsaber and snapped it open. It sparked to life and hissed within in his hands.

A collective gasp rose up from all the Chiss to see a fully-armed Jedi standing before them.

"Restrain him!" Lord Nirasu commanded. Two Chiss guards in short capes rushed towards Ezra, blasters out and aimed at his chest.

He raised a palm into the air, using the Force to freeze their feet into place. Both guards were halted as though invisible hands had seized them by the ankles. Ezra then flipped his hand downwards and their blasters flew out of their hands, clattering at their feet.

The Chiss were more furious than frightened. "Is this how you repay our hospitality, Jedi?" demanded one white-haired woman. "Using deception and then sorcery to execute us all?"

Ezra released his Force-hold on the soldiers and they began to move at once. "I don't want to hurt anyone, your Excellency. But you needed to see a demonstration of my abilities that have recently been restored to me."

"How do we know that you have not been pretending to be defenseless this entire time?" demanded Lord Nirasu.

"Look at my aptitude charts. You know I worked as hard as I could in the junior fleet to stay even with my fellow officers," Ezra said. "I wouldn't have held back if it meant losing my place among the Chiss."

"And now that you have our attention, what do you intend to do with us?"

Ezra powered down his lightsaber. "I meant no ill will, Lord Nirasu. All I ask is that you listen to a matter of mutual gain that benefits all of us."

He noticed Admiral Ar'alani's hand rested on her own blaster but she hadn't drawn it out yet. She asked him crisply, "What precisely do you have to offer?"

Ezra respectfully dropped to one knee but kept his head held up with confidence. "I pledge myself to three years of service in the Chiss Defense Fleet," he announced.

The white-haired Chiss eyed him skeptically. "And what do you want in return?"

"All I ask for is a secure place to live and an occupation of purpose," Ezra admitted. "If you exile me from Csilla, I could be captured by the Empire and turned into a weapon against their enemies and perhaps someday, even the Chiss. Let me stay here among your people and in return, I will support the fleet by protecting your homeworld and colonies."

"Using your Jedi abilities?"

"Only when necessary," he assured her.

She glanced at Lord Nirasu. "It would not do well for word to get out that we are hiding an enemy of the Galactic Empire among us."

"Or become an advantage. The Vaagri would think twice to invade our hyperspace routes if they knew we had a Jedi in our service," Lord Nirasu pointed out.

While they talked among themselves, Ezra rose back to his feet. He walked over to the guards he had just disarmed and assisted them in picking up their weapons. They appeared wary at this newcomer's sudden powers but did not rebuff him.

Admiral Ar'alani, who had been observing the conversation without comment , finally removed her hand from her blaster. She circled around the table and approached Ezra. "Will you walk with me, Commander Bridger?" she asked.

He nodded in agreement. Ezra overhead Lord Nirasu speak to Ar'alani in Chenuh and knew he was advising her to take some of the guards with her. Ar'alani respectfully declined and gestured for Ezra to follow her. They exited the room and stepped out onto an outdoor boulevard that ran along the base of the mountain range. A cool late-afternoon breeze ruffled through his hair.

When they were a safe distance from from prying eyes and ears Ar'alani asked Ezra, "Do you know why I have brought you here?"

"You wanted to speak away from the Ascendancy," he suggested.

"What else?" She was expecting a deeper understanding to her actions. Ezra thought hard before speaking again.

"I believe that you trust me," he said at last.

"How so?"

"You let me keep my lightsaber but took your blaster with you," he pointed out. "You know I won't use my weapon on you but not everyone else is convinced. So you showed them you were being cautious by remaining armed."

Ar'alani looked impressed. "A good observation, Commander Bridger. And yes, I believe your offer is sincere. But not all members of the Ascendancy agree on that matter. Nor do they agree on Mith'raw'nuruodo's fate."

"I'm guessing Lord Nirasu wanted him back in the fleet. That's why he was relieved that I didn't sentence him to death."

Ar'alani inclined her head. "There are Chiss still among us who carry the opinion that we are not utilizing Mith'raw'nuruodo to our advantage. But I am not among them."

"Discords between the Chiss are liabilities," Ar'alani cautioned Ezra. "We have quarreled in the past with negative results. I am concerned that if we continue to remain in isolation for too long we will fracture and then collapse upon ourselves. We need strong trustworthy allies if our civilization is to survive."

Ezra halted in his tracks, accepting Ar'alani's words and then becoming illuminated from the message that had crossed his path. After months of fumbling in the dark and finally coming to accept his place in the universe, he was discovering why he had come to this sparkling winter world.

Thrawn had brought Ezra to the Chiss to learn from them.

But the Force had guided him here to save them.

"I can do it," he assured Ar'alani with confidence. "If you can convince Lord Nirasu and the others to trust me, I can find you the allies that you need to preserve Csilla. There are many brave honorable people I've fought beside during my battles against the Empire. I would honored to introduce them to you."

"I am intrigued to meet these companions," Ar'alani declared. "Though it will take time and patience to convince Lord Nirasu of your sincerity. Are you certain that you wish to serve the fleet for three full years?"

"I am," he insisted. "If you will grant me one favor in return, Admiral."

"Speak your request, Commander Bridger."

Ezra clasped his hands behind his back. "In lieu of a standard officer's salary, my payment would be transferred into precious stones and minerals. A slicer will send it though the appropriate channels into the Outer Rim to fund the Rebellion."

Ar'alani's cheekbones sharpened and Ezra could tell she did not approve entirely of his request. "Perhaps the funding will be traced back to us," she cautioned him.

"I'm confident there's at least one good Chiss slicer who can make anonymous transactions."

"Such as Junior Officer Ranu?" Ar'alani demanded. Noticing Ezra's dumbstruck face, she gave him a thin dry smile. "I know she was one of your collaborators who discovered the file on Outbound Flight."

Ezra opened his mouth to insist it was all his fault but Ar'alani raised a hand. "There is no need to protect her on this matter, Commander. At the time I was angry to discover three of our best students had hacked into the central computer systems. But even an admiral must accept the flaws in our security databanks if a junior officer can override them."

"What's going to happen to Ranu?" Ezra asked with concern.

"She will have to complete several rotations of work service as a penalty," Ar'alani informed him. "But after that, I will speak to the head of our technology department to bring her into their program. We would do well to utilize her skills rather than banish her to some remote office position. I expect that you and your associates will not attempt such a foolish action again."

"We won't," he assured her.

"I am relieved to hear it. Consider the matter closed."

"Thank you, Admiral Ar'alani."

They walked on together and around the bend. Ezra watched a glowing crimson sun skim over the mountains, turning their white-capped peaks into lavender.

"Is there something else on your mind, Commander Bridger?"

He nodded towards the Chiss leader. "I was wondering if you knew Mith'ras'ssafis."

Ar'alani lifted her chin up proudly. "I did indeed. Mith'ras'saffis and Mith'raw'nuruodo were both adopted into the Eight Ruling Family as children. Mith'ras'saffis grew into a fine officer who was loyal, dedicated, and intelligent. He never begrudged Mith'raw'nuruodo for his unique talents. Yet Mith'ras'saffis often had to remind his younger brother of his place.

Ezra was curious by her words. "What do you mean?"

"You and I know how singular Mith'raw'nuruodo is in his drive to succeed. His ability to understand enemies by observing their artwork makes him a skillful strategist. But in the past the Ascendancy rebuked Mith'raw'nuruodo for his actions. He would defy the orders of the fleet and take unnecessary risks in battle. Even though he gained victory in the end, the fleet could not overlook the number of casualties that followed Mith'raw'nurodo's battles.

"Nor would he apologize to the Ascendancy for his decisions. I spoke with his older brother on several occasions and knew Mith'ras'ssafis did everything he could to protect his younger brother's career and reputation. He tried to convince Mith'raw'nuruodo to reconsider his actions. But he believed his gifts should not be wasted on mediocrity and continued to be reckless, even resorting to dangerous strategies that defied everything the Chiss valued."

She eyed Ezra who had slowed down in his tracks. "You appear troubled. What is it?"

"I just realized Thrawn and I aren't so different," Ezra told her.

"How so?"

"When I was in the Rebellion, there were times when I'd rush headfirst into battle to prove myself. I didn't listen to my captain or take advice from my superiors. I just keep assuring myself that it was for the good of my squadron..until I had to face consequences."

He glanced aside at Ar'alani. "It took a demotion and some harsh words from my captain to teach me to work alongside my fellow officers."

"No good officer intends to err," she agreed. "But I am relieved to hear that you have learned this lesson beforehand."

"So what happened on Outbound Flight?"

"Ah, I digressed. Prior to Outbound Flight, Mith'raw'nurodo had encountered human smugglers who unintentionally crossed the fleet. From them he learned about the Republic and the Jedi. Mith'ras'safis warned his brother to exercise caution with the outsiders while Mith'raw'nurodo continued to take great interest in their lifestyles and weapons.

"When Outbound Flight appeared, Mith'raw'nurodo attempted to make bargain so they wouldn't intrude upon Chiss space. But a Jedi on board, who was quite different from yourself, arrogantly informed Mith'raw'nurodo that he would not serve nor cooperate with people who were not part of the Republic. He nearly killed Mith'raw'nurodow with his powers. A three-way battle between the Chiss, the Jedi carrier, and the Vaagri broke out in space. The Jedi was destroyed and Oubound Flight lay disabled in space."

"Both brothers and myself knew that if the Ascendency and Ruling Families laid their hands upon Outbound Flight, they could harness its weapons to seize further power within Csilla. We would have a full-scale civil war upon our hands. Mith'ras'saffis boarded the ship and guided its failing engines to crash onto a remote moon."

She concluded her story and glanced at Ezra, who had been listening attentively the entire time.

"I had no idea how high the stakes were or how great your losses have been," he said sympathetically. "And if that Jedi had embraced the Dark Side, I can understand now why the Ascendancy was reluctant to let me stay."

"Yet you have endured," she remarked. Ar'alani added that the banquet he had been invited to had indeed been a test to see how the Jedi would react to a cold reception.

"Everyone, including Lord Nirasu, thought you behaved exceedingly well in an uncomfortable situation," Ar'alani added. There was a note of approval in her voice.

"But it was you who got me those clearance codes to the Atrium, wasn't it?"

It was Ar'alani's turn to stop in her tracks and look surprised. Ezra relaxed enough to smile at her. "Process of elimination. Ashray told me she didn't have permission and Thrawn wouldn't gain anything from it. Lord Nirasu didn't trust me so I guessed it had to be you."

"And you kept it to yourself all this time?" she exclaimed.

"I didn't want to say or do anything to discredit an admiral."

A puzzled expression came over Ar'alani's regal features. At last she said, "You are a remarkable young man, Commander Bridger. I know of few people who would show such concern for the well-being of others."

"I learned from my master," he said humbly.

"He must have been a fine Jedi."

"He was, Admiral. And an even better man."

A'raani gestured down to his lightsaber. "How did you come to construct it?"

"The crystals that power the lightsaber guided me to them. But I don't think your people should try mining the grottos to look for more crystals," he advised her. "They're extremely rare."

"No, we must keep the grottos for their original purposes. And as for you, Commander Bridger, there is a long and difficult journey ahead of you," she cautioned him. "Proving yourself in space combat will be even more stringent that running stimulations in class. But if you put all of your effort into serving the fleet, I will do what I can to convince the Ascendency to forge new alliances."

Ezra clasped his hands to his sides and bowed at the waist to her. "I thank you for your advice, Admiral Ar'alani. I promise to serve the fleet with honor and respect."

"I am sure you will. Dismissed, commander."

She walked him walk off and turn around a bend.

No, he was not like Master Jorus C'baoth at all. All for the better for the Chiss.

" _And all the more so better for Ezra Bridger_ ," she thought.

A-A-A

 _Brillian Mason Building, fourth floor - Private quarters of Commander Eli Vanto_

"Finals are over, Ezra. Time to celebrate!" Eli announced. Instead of eating in the dining hall, both men were relaxing with an early supper in Eli's rooms. Eli finished with the arrangements by setting down two bowls brimming with steaming hot noodles onto the table.

"Thanks, Eli," said Ezra. "I'm starving." He dug heartily into his bowl while Eli poured himself a glass of tinn to work up his appetite.

"You deserve it. I know the next few months are going to be grueling but once you're up in space, you'll get some great experience that's nothing compared to textbook studies."

"I'll be it is. When do you start commandeering the Snow Huntress?"

"Right after my promotion, which should be in two standard months from now. Plenty of time for a few more milk-runs and practice with Cloudbreakers," Eli said.

Ezra twirled his fork in his bowl. "And visit him?"

Eli lowered his mug and frowned. "I won't, Ezra. I can't forgive Thrawn after everything he's done."

"You don't have to overlook his crimes," Ezra agreed. "But you know that in spite of his arrogance and malice, Thrawn still considers you his friend. In some ways he still needs you to remind him of the decency of others."

Eli drummed his fingers on the table. "Decency," he repeated. "Don't see how much good it'll do."

"The Ascendency is still on shaky ground and will continue to be so as long as Thrawn remains in prison. If you just visit him once in a while, talk to him, it may help smooth things out."

"Or make them worse," Eli warned him.

Ezra was unnerved. "He trusted you above anyone else in the Empire."

Eli snorted. "And that makes me special?"

"It does, Eli. He didn't even tell the Emperor how to find Csilla. We're both here now because of Thrawn's gambles that paid off."

Eli rocked back and forth in his chair. "You're not going to give up until I consent, are you?"

"You don't have commit to anything, Eli. Just go along with his games. Listen to Thrawn. Even if you're not interested in talking, he'll have something important to say." Ezra rotated his bowl around on the table. "Who knows? You might even be able to influence him for the better."

"Its times like this I remember Dad telling us why so many negotiators were Jedi," Eli muttered. He heaved a sigh. "Okay, Ezra. I'll give it a shot. Now can you stop nagging me long enough so I can eat?"

Ezra grinned and slid the pitcher of sauce over to Eli. The Wild Space man dumped nearly all of it onto his noodles. Eli's weakness for spicy food was well-known.

"Now where's my fork?" he muttered.

Eli searched around his plate and even checked under the table in case it had fallen off. He pulled his head back up to see his fork had reappeared and was resting serenely upon his napkin.

"Huh."

Ezra smile grew even wider and he shoveled more noodles into his mouth.

Eli reached for the fork. But suddenly, as though a magnet had possessed it, the fork began to skitter across the table. "Hey!" Eli shouted. He reached out and clamped a hand on the handle. He could feel it vibrating and wobbling beneath his palm. Startled by the phenomenon, Eli quickly let go.

The fork bounced off the table and landed with a loud _PLOP_ in Eli's bowl. Broth and noodles splattered across his face. To his horror, some of the noodles had also landed on the table and were twitching like a pack of writhing green snakes.

He staggered back away from the table stammering, "F-f- _farckel!_ "

Ezra burst out into a fit of laughter, bending over and covering his stomach. "You should see your face!" he laughed.

Eli wiped his dirty cheek with a sleeve. He starred down at the wriggling noodles and then Ezra. "You!" he stuttered. "You did this!?"

On cue, the Jedi twirled his fingers in the air. Eli watched the fork in his bowl stand straight up and rotate itself around. Ezra lifted a hand up and Eli watched in bewilderment as the noodle-laden fork floated through the air and across the table. Ezra opened his mouth and the fork obediently sailed in between his lips.

The Jedi closed his eyes and chewed happily. "Mmm. You're right. Spicy is better."

Eli was still shaking all over. "You—you really can—" he spluttered.

"Yes."

"Since when!?"

"Just a few weeks ago." Ezra saw his friend was still nearly white with shock and his smile fell away. "Its okay, Eli. I'm still the same person."

Eli said nothing. Ezra was worried he'd berate him. "I swear I'd never use the Force to hurt you or anyone here," he added. "I promise."

A mad light flickered in Eli's eye. Then he seized his half-full bowl of noodles and hurled the contents towards Ezra. With a hearty _splash_ , the Jedi was soaking and noodle-laden as much as his companion.

Eli looked satisfied with his handiwork.

"Bring it on!" Ezra thrust his own bowl back at Eli. Noodles slopped everywhere and broth dripped down the sides of the table.

Eli quickly gathered up some of the noodles in his hands and was ready to fling them back at Ezra when Doctor Mikh'al walked into the room.

The Chiss doctor came to a halt. He blinked twice. He starred at one young man, then the other, and finally the sticky mess between them. Eli emptied the contents of his hands and quickly wiped them on his trousers.

"Are you both feeling well?" he asked coolly.

"We're fine," Ezra said, trying to control his shaky laughter.

"Then this unusual activity is…" Mikh'al waved a hand at the mess they had created.

"It's a human ritual," Eli explained quickly. "We're celebrating Ezra's graduation with the traditional 'Noodle Throw'. Everyone in Wild Space does it."

"And on Lothal," Ezra added. "Lots of noodles. Every graduation."

"Hmm." Mikh'al was clearly not picking up on the amusement in their tones and merely continued to observe the dirty table with disdain. Ezra could see a vein twitching in the Chiss' right temple.

"It is not my place to critique another person's culture and customers. However, I would advise both of you not to perform this act in public," he warned them. Mikh'al added dryly, "Especially in front of the Ascendency."

"Oh, no way," Ezra agreed.

"Absolutely not," Eli chimed in. "Completely confidential."

"Very well, gentlemen. I'll speak no more of it. Just remember you both have vaccinations at the end of the week."

Mikh'al turned on heel and left the room.

Ezra wiped his soggy face. "Noodle Throw. Really?"

"Beats Empire Day."

Roars of laughter could be heard from down the hallway. Mikh'al continued walking along his path, shaking his head in disbelief.

" _Humans_ ," he thought.

A-A-A

 _One standard month later:_

Admiral Ar'alani had already taught three classes in the junior fleet and oversaw refurbishments for two star carriers but her daily tasks were not yet over. Graceful in her white uniform, Ar'lani strode up to the door of her destination and pressed the comm button.

The door slid open to reveal Ashray.

It was the first time Ar'alani had seen her with shorter hair. Now it nearly touched her shoulders but Ashray had brushed some of off her face and secured her hair in place with two pearl combs.

Admiral Ar'alani thought the effect was rather pretty but said nothing about it. Ashray was clearly thunderstruck to have the admiral visit her private quarters but she composed herself and invited the admiral inside. Ar'lani noticed the young woman kept her rooms tidy and presentable. The only items not put away were some stacks of papers at one end of the desk next to a set of data chips.

Ashray directed her guest to a chair and offered her something to drink. The admiral watched her meticulously prepare a serving tray with the professional courtesy of a hostess. Ashray did not spill a single drop as she poured Ar'alani a cup of herbal brew and extended it to her guest.

Ar'alani thanked her and sipped at her cup. "I have heard that your patrons have declined to support you. How does this effect your future?" she asked Ashray.

Ashray primly folded her hands in her lap. "It has motivated me to examine other possibilities within the Chiss," she explained.

"Have you?"

"Yes. I have composed lists of my qualifications and are submitting them to other departments." She tilted her chin up with confidence. "Regardless of the ruling family's rejection, I must put my skills to good use for the benefit of Csilla."

"Such as?"

"I practice my music often and make recordings to listen for the notes where I can improve," Ashray explained. "I'm also adaptable with animals." She hid a smile when thinking about Genet.

"Doctor Mikh'al spoke of an assistant, did he not?"

Ashray's face froze for a moment. "He did," she responded neutrally.

Her expression was not lost on Ar'alani. "You disapprove of him?

"Not at all, Admiral. He is a clever physician," Ashray insisted warmly. "But to become his assistant, one must have a similar measure of enthusiasm for science. It is a trait I would have to cultivate to provide Dr. Mikh'al with adequate support."

"Eloquent yet sincere," Ar'alani said. "Such talents with speech would not do well aboard an armed ship but they could be used in formal politics."

Ashray tucked a strand of hair behind her right ear. "I can see both being beneficial to the Chiss, admiral. If warfare is about breaking up battles, politics is about breaking bread with rivals."

Ar'alani resisted the urge to smile by changing the subject. "What do you think of Commander Bridger?" she asked.

The young woman's eyes glowed upon hearing his name. Then a flush came to her face and she glanced briefly at the floor. " _Aha_ ," Ar'alani thought.

"My opinion of the commander has changed since we first met," said Ashray. "I had underestimated his capabilities before but becoming closer acquainted with him, I am confident he has great potential to inspire comradeship in others."

"Then you approve of him now?"

"My approval holds no authority," Ashray reminded her.

"I am not asking the Ascendency. I am asking you," A'aralni insisted firmly.

The younger woman lowered her gaze in submission. "Forgive my bluntness, Admiral. I confess my perspective is biased since I have confided in Commander Bridger on a personal matter."

"Integrity is nothing to be ashamed of," Ar'alani assured her. She sounded pleased. "It takes a courage to speak the truth. Was the commander able to help you in this matter?"

"Yes, Admiral. I hope I can return the favor someday." Her eyes glowed with warmth. "Though I doubt he will accept any form of reward."

"I have noticed." A'ralani rose from her chair and locked her hands behind her spine.

"But I have not come here to discuss Commander Bridger's future. I am here to discuss yours."

Ashray appeared surprised. "Admiral?"

"I want you to immediately stop sending out applications," Ar'alani commanded her.

Ashray's lips parted slightly in astonishment. She did not dare disobey a direct order from a superior officer but was struggling against the desire to protest aloud.

"You have something to say, Ashray?"

The young woman shook her head in defeat. She expected A'ralani to conclude her visit and leave Ashray to overcome her embarrassment.

Instead, she watched A'ralani's lips draw upwards into the hint of a graceful smile. "You must stop because there is no need to waste your time any longer. You have shown persistence of character and that is something that Commodore Hikkaro and the Second Family respect. They want to train you to become a junior representative for the Ascendency."

Ashray let out a soft gasp and then covered her mouth with her hands. She nearly jumped to her feet. "A representative?" she whispered in awe.

"Raise your voice, Ashray. An orator must speak clearly for her audience," commanded Ar'alani.

"As I was saying, we will require senators and speakers to act on behalf of the Ascendency in the near future. Bringing Commander Bridger into our ranks is a gamble but one that I am willing to risk," explained Ar'alani. "You know the rudiments of speech and etiquette. I am certain if you are willing to take instruction and apply yourself to new lessons, the Second Family will have you speak on behalf of Csilla in future dealings with outsiders."

Ashray lowered her hands to her sides and then curtsied before the Admiral. "I am honored to be offered this position, Admiral."

"Then I may tell the Second Family that you accept?"

Ashray nodded eagerly. Her fingers twisted around a ribbon on her dress to keep her emotions in check.

"Very well, Syndic Ashray. In the meantime I advise you to dress formally and select some of your best musical pieces. The Second Family will want to meet you this evening."

They exchanged formal greetings again and then Admiral Ar'alani left the room. Once alone, Ashray spun around on both heels and let out a long silvery stream of laughter.

A junior representative! This was a privilege beyond anything she had ever imagined. And to think that she had all but forsaken hope of a better future. Ezra Bridger had been right. Oh, how remarkable a thing to have a Jedi as a friend!

Ashray went to her mirror and picked up a silvery brush, then began running it through her hair. She would make the finest impression for the Second Family and Commodore Hikkaro. As she ran the brush through her hair and beamed to herself, Ashray imagined a future scenario for herself.

Would she be traveling to a planet full of lakes and rivers? Visiting a wild grassy landscape like Ezra's homeworld? Perhaps she would see a magnificent moon with skycrapers climbing endlessly into the stars. But in each one, she pictured herself as a mature Chiss woman speaking pleasantly with dignitaries from other worlds.

 _"Senator Ashray, we are honored with your visit to our homeworld."_

 _"The honor is all mine, your highness. I thank you for your hospitality. I have been admiring your city's architecture today and was hoping a member of your staff would tell me about your building projects."_

 _"Of course!_ _Might we offer you a tour of our city tomorrow?"_

 _"I would enjoy it very much. If you will excuse me, the baroness has been expecting me."_

 _"Until tomorrow then."_

 _"Charming young lady, don't you think?"_

" _Quite intelligent too. I'm told the Chancellor has spoken highly of her on many occasions."_

" _The Chiss must be a great people to cultivate such admirable senators. We would do well to discuss negotiations with them."_

Senator Ashray. It was the loveliest music; a masterpiece that she would create in her lifetime.

A-A-A

SIX MONTHS LATER:

It had been bitter work. Six months of vigorous discipline, training, and commandeering.

But the rewards were worthwhile. Now the newly-appointed officers of the Chiss Defense Fleet were preparing for the Springhawk's first galactic voyage into space.

Everyone wore a midnight-blue uniform that had recently been altered to new preferences across the fleet. The traditional leather strap across the chest had been removed after reports declared it was cumbersome and impractical. Upturned collars were shortened enough to hold each officer's insignia badge without restraining the head. Utility belts had been made slightly wider with more pockets to better carry weapons and emergency equipment.

Kyler's own uniform sported a silver badge on the collar. He made sure it was secured properly and then thumbed two buttons on his console. "Operations, this is Lieutenant Kyler. Status report," he announced.

Two musical chimes rung out. Then Ranu's voice came in clear through the speakers. _"Lieutenant, we are on frequency eight one zero. Standing by and waiting for orders."_

"Thank you, Officer Ranu."

Kyler made a final sweep through the Springhawk to make sure everyone was accounted for. When he arrived at the bridge, Doctor Mikh'al was already waiting for him in his gray medical uniform and white lab coat.

"Have you examined the medical bay?" he asked the physician, knowing fully well that Mikh'al had gone over it twice.

"Yes I have, Lieutenant. All supplies have been stocked down to the last bacta bandage."

The young Chiss physician was doing his best to restrain his own delight by acting as nonchalant as he could. No less than six medical officers had applied for the Springhawk but he had been selected out of all of them by its leader. Mikh'al was determined to prove that he was the suitable person for the job.

"I'm confident we'll be in good hands knowing you are here, Doctor Mikh'al."

"You should not be so optimistic even before our voyage has begun, Lieutenant," Mikh'al cautioned him. "Space comes with as many risks as it does wonders. It remains a place full of diseases and dangers—"

"—wrapped in darkness and silence," Kyler concluded for him. "I know. And yet if it was as horrible as the stories said it was, we'd never have harnessed the technology for hyperspace travel. Don't tell me you're already decided to be a pessimist."

"I am a realist," Mikh'al corrected him. "Keep that in mind if this ship succumbs to Kolaxium influenza and everyone is writhing and vomiting on the floor."

Kyler resisted the urge to roll his eyes at his colleague. "Thank you for the vote of confidence, Doctor," he muttered dryly.

"Are you mocking me, Lieutenant?"

"On our first trip? Never."

Before their argument could escalate, the console chimed again. Kyler opened the channel with relief. " _Permission to come on board_?" inquired a male voice.

"Permission granted, sir." Kyler turned it off. "Everyone, stand attention for the commander of the Springhawk."

All of the officers rose to their feet and stood in two parallel lines. Mikh'al respectfully took a position near the door. When it opened in a few moments, the Chiss' red eyes all turned to see their leader striding confidentially towards them.

A gold insignia badge was pinned to the human's dark-blue lapel and he wore leather wrists gauntlets infused with comm-links. A short-range blaster was strapped to the right side of his utility belt. But unlike the other officers, he had a duel-bladed lightsaber that was clipped onto the left side of his belt. His hair had been cut shorter with bangs brushed off his forehead. A small black goatee graced his chin and gave him an air of maturity.

Kyler stepped forward and saluted to him.

"Commander Bridger, the Springhawk is prepared to launch. You have full control of the ship."

Ezra nodded to him. "Thank you, Lieutenant Kyler. Everyone, to your stations."

When all of the officers were in position, Ezra placed his hands upon the railing and spoke aloud so that everyone could hear him.

"This is a basic scouting mission to the lamda-prime sector of Chiss space," Ezra announced. "We are using the coordinates that Admiral Ar'alani provided to find the most effective way of traveling around the moon clusters of Densor. The carriers _Snow Huntress_ and _Tenacity_ will meet us at lamda-prime."

"If we see the enemy we are to avoid interactions and fall back to the fleet immediately."

"Commander, what if they attack us first?" asked one Chiss office. Her colleagues frowned at her abruptness. But the commander inclined his head to her.

"If they pursue us then we have the torpedoes locked and loaded," he said. "But our best bet is to unify with the other carriers. The Vaagri won't dare engage in open combat against three fully-armed ships."

Officer Ranu opened a new channel for him. The hologram of a young man appeared and hovered over the computer.

"Springhawk, this is the Snow Huntress. Are you ready to engage?"

"Yes, Commodore Vanto. We'll see you shortly

"Good travels to you, Springhawk. And to you, Commander Bridger."

"Thank you."

Ranu sealed the communication and Eli's image vanished.

"Prepare to enter hyperspace," Ezra announced. Ranu grinned as she and her fellow officers put the coordinates into the Springhawk's computers. Ezra could feel the tiles beneath his feet vibrate as the Springhawk's engines roared to life and the entire ship trembled in preparation for impact.

"Permission to join you, commander?"

Ezra offered a place next to him. "Permission granted, Lieutenant. Let's see what the galaxy has in store for us."

He lifted his gaze to the endless planes of stars and comets that glittered before them. A thrill rose up in Ezra to see the white lines stretch out before the Springhawk's windows. The engines whistled with excitement as the ship made the final movements to take off into the unknown wonders of all worlds.

"May warriors' fortunes smile upon our efforts," Kyler announced.

"And may the Force be with us," Ezra concluded.

The Springhawk vanished into a stream of white light and raced across the galaxy.

END

A-A-A

Author's notes: Bonus points if you find the irresistible quote from the 2009 film "Star Trek" in this chapter. The game of Shah-tezh is used in Chuck Wendig's "Aftermath" trilogy novels and Ezra's little noodle prank was lifted from "Heir to the Jedi" by Kevin Hearne. Filoni and Co. did such a good job rejuvenating legends material into "Clone Wars" and "Rebels" that I was inspired to pull different fascinating details from the books into my story.

Thank you for reading and sharing in the adventures. And good luck to you, Ezra Bridger, wherever you are.


End file.
